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Bull snake in yard

One Poem by Tovah Strong

Bullsnake Season

i.

we agree.
only the dogs will eat
eggs slick
with bullsnakes’ passings.

glistening shells like bricks,
salmonella.

                    still,
           we speak love
for doublelidded ebony eyes;

utter greetings through
a door’s closing melody.

the checkered snakecoil,
an oval beneath transom:
you,
I disturb in my daily
egghunt

when I unhook
the chickencoop’s round latch,
peek in         to the dim—

uplift an ovular head;
         mouthcrease
stitched black & tan.
 

ii.

yes, every autumn
scales vanish with rising cold.

& yes, I think creatures asleep.
breathing out small
to dens of earthen walls.

your hollow
soon full of gossamer shed.

& yes, everyday: recall:
the jumps we make

frighting ourselves at all
that could end us.

I, bodied,
stilling, heartpounded,
at could-be-snake sticks;

last year’s bullsnake—mangled
tail tucked beneath a bulk so quick
I once fled towards the door:

vertebrate darting from nestbox
to floor an astonishment.

henhouse swirling
unsettled dust in
to a semisolid cloud—

we enter.
     I enter,
the gleaming:

sun: dust particulate light rinsed.
shavings crawling in
to boot tread gaps.
 

iii.

it is a practice:
every entrance stomped:
no surprises of mine made quiet:

out of necessity, I construct
my own small earth shake.

our movements, & ours,
& ours, too,
made loud through sight.

like ceremony. a snake becomes
small beauty. our respect sits
inside our bodies.
 

iv.

dreaming snakes: dreaming
silklike secrets: once, in dreaming
a snake climbs in
to my bed, grows warm curled beneath
my elbow. in dreaming, a snake I love
becomes lost or dead by noon
 

v.

look at a sight:
the folded skeleton
between discarded skin
inside the trailer whose door hangs
open only after soul’s departure,

whose bend, I think
replicates the mangled tailed
bullsnake we twice leave out
the dirtiest of eggs for;

meals placed between holes
dipping below the henrun’s walls

tell me, this
is some other
mangled dreamer.

believe me:
I saw a living body,
snake silhouette, curled

between eggs hours before
my key
in the trailer door

yes, I saw
a coal tongue scenting
my heat.
 

vi.

as any bodied,        not yet
frayed to dying,
I mourn your tomorrow.

         pray
without action.

in this, I am
proficient.

I memory
last year’s you—wrapped

in departure, shed
skin a shroud
for a slow death.

your spine’s maggots dead.
my unknowing
begging meaning

from you, & the cousin of you
dipping

a striped mouth
to the water bucket

because it is summer &
everyone is thirsty.

 

 

    

Tovah StrongTovah Strong grew up watching ravens in New Mexico. They hold an MFA from Randolph College and a BFA from the Institute of American Indian Arts. Her poetry has appeared in The Passionfruit Review, Chapter House Journal, EcoTheo Review, and elsewhere.

Read three poems by Tovah Strong previously appearing in Terrain.org.

Original bull snake photo by Joe Farah, courtesy Shutterstock.