The crimson silk kimono
hangs over her body
carrying the soul of tradition
and the pride of ancestry
Her voice sings mournfully
to the gods who were abandoned
for poisonous smoke
over the touch of incense
She cries for her children
not yet born, who will
never see her dance
the praises of the dragon
The silk road has vanished
under the weight of pavement
red ribbons long blown away
now oil stains on the earth
Demure and saddened
she watches the dragon fly
red scales of the Orient
disappear into the sun
© Antonio Beardall
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