It slithers along the ground, <br />Forked tongue slips side to side, <br />Some say its Satan, <br />As it slithers without a sound, <br /> <br />Slipping between stone, <br />Sliding over leaves, <br />Sensing its prey, <br />It is all alone, <br /> <br />Now you see it, <br />Now you do not, <br />Stand still, don't move, <br />Alas you be bit, <br /> <br />So hard to see, <br />The colors of leaves, <br />Stand still, stand still, <br />A statue you must be, <br /> <br />The heart races, <br />The glands sweat, <br />You must not move, <br />A mere two paces, <br /> <br />You see the head, <br />Sliding over your boot, <br />A body so long, <br />And seeking to be fed, <br /> <br />To stand so still, <br />How long it seems, <br />No one knows, <br />The nausea you feel, <br /> <br />It slithers away, <br />Your muscles melt, <br />It's over you say, <br />What a day, what a day!<br /><br />B.J. Ayers<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-snake-12/
