Zale adjusted his brown, leather riding gear in front of the mirror. His eyes flicked to the top right corner of the mirror and his gaze was pulled to the vacant stone dragon bed near the room’s huge arched doorway. For six years, he and his dragon Sasha took off and landed from the ledge beyond the entrance. His beloved dragon was killed in an accident two months ago. He returned his gaze to himself and studied the scars...

My hands are large, and yours are small I forget sometimes, how unsure they are In a home for adults, you make your way There are times I get angry, when you spill drink on the floor Sometimes I’m impatient, when your strides don’t match mine Hurry up, don’t spill that, are words I often say Then I remember, you’re trying your best You find wonder in the strangest things You remind me to look through eyes of a child Butte...

You were born with your eyes closed What colour they were, I’ll never know Your chest was still, but you felt warm Your face was beautiful, with skin so soft My tears were wet, they ran down my cheeks My sobs were loud, but no-one cared My heart was shattered, and will never heal I created a life for you, in my heart and mind Where you are happy, loved and remembered You are my angel in heaven, who was born sleeping