This time last year I was on vacation at the beach. Here's a poem I wrote then
A green snake came
to visit
slithering onto
the stones
that paved the
surround
of the swimming
pool.
The green snake
reminds
me of Goethe...
but where is the
beautiful lily?
Is she my beloved,
elderly friend
whom I held so
tenderly still
in my arms,
in my dream,
last night that I
woke,
wondering,
if she lay dying?
I'm born in the
Year of the Snake,
Yes. So it's my
totem animal?
Yet I find it
hard
to overcome
revulsion
and consider
instead
the small head,
the curiously curving
movements,
the slender line
of its flexible body.
Why did it visit?
Where did it want
to go?
What did it want
to say?
I'll never know.
