After the night rains,
Men go driving slow,
Staring at rock splits.
One sees a wiggle.
Is it apricot and grey?
All hail the Grayband.
The snake halts, frozen.
In the shadows, it waits, still.
The men drive on. Ahh!
Freedom is strange here.
Snakes slow to remain hidden.
Discovery looms.
"It eats, it's fine here."
Do snakes always coil to sleep?
In cages, they do.
Along the rock gorge,
I slither, mists about me.
I am cool and free.
No comments:
Post a Comment