I knew a man that claimed
to swim with Dragon-kin,
to have met the lords of
all Creation

He was a tall man,
and broad,
but not so broad
to have trouble with doors,
nor so tall
to take issue with
tree-branches

He was an old man,
too.

His voice was strong,
yet rasping.
He wore fine boots
and his other clothes
were well cared-for.

He was wily.

And when he said
he had swum with legends
and supped with God,
though it could never
have been so,
I believed him.

They were metaphors,
I’m sure,
his old exalted friends,
and he was truly
just as great.

And all of his stories
were always the best,
anyway.