serpents by James Morehead
September 26, 2011
serpents
driving back from reno up a twisting mountain pass while either side lie serpents as i silently trespass rotting oak posts stand close, buried shallow a careless worn serpent in quiet fields left fallow crooked barbed wire across a dust thirsty plain while bolts flaked with rust hint of last season’s rain elegant serpents strike parallel lines bolted rail ties and wooden brace spines held firmly in place forming strict even spaces racing forward never touching to faraway places this serpent’s turns churn soil and silt through fields of husks, yellow hints of gilt sand bags for storm clouds create sturdy walls fighting flood’s fury as the last drop falls a serpent in air floats to and then fro steps into thin air that opens below his sail slaloms silent (or perhaps it is hers) swooping forward then back - once still, then a blur bemused by imposters still under smooth stone this serpent forgotten for now left alone tongue tasting the air to sense passing prey while outside dusty sand swirls in circles of grey
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Nice, James. I’m trying to interpret….Very visual.
Was this written after a recent drive? Or a memory?
Thanks! I was driving back from Reno recently and along the way noticed snake-like patterns (and preferred “serpents” to “snakes”) and played with different ways of describing those patterns as a starting point for the poem.