across the dark lake a rusty blade waited in the cold wet grass
two copperhead snakes slithered past each with a secret task
a frog hopped by on his way to get eaten by the snakes
the blade giggled a bit as the frog was devoured by the big one
the other snake slithered off, looking for something tasty.
rusty blade could relate, he was ready to take a bite of something himself.
He had tasted potatoes, carrots, steak, pork, and now fish.
There was nothing that he did not like to carve into
something small but fast rushes toward the blade, what is that?
rusty blade regrets that no one ever shared an encyclopedia with him
He had no name for the object, but he still wanted a taste.
He sliced into its leg, and heard a loud horrible yowl. He loved that!
copperhead alert
not real happy to see me
shaggy reaction
Jim Stokes is at the Memphis Zoo.
He’s been assigned to interview
a Southern copperhead. A few
have scared him s _ _ _ less in the past.
Thank God this one’s behind thick glass!
Jim: Good, morning, Mr. Copperhead.
Snake: It’s Missss. Welcome to my abode.
Jim: You’re coiled as if to strike out. Why?
I haven’t come to taunt or goad!
Snake: I’m used to being in strike mode.
Jim: How do you feel about your—uh, room?
Do you ever feel mistreated
or deprived in that little tomb?
Snake: Cheesh! Now you’ve made me feel cheated.
Till you came, I never felt defeated!
Jim: Sorry. Why not completely uncoil?
Wouldn’t that feel good for a change?
Snake: Your taunting makes my cold blood boil.
This interview is really strange.
I’ll uncoil if my freedom you arrange!
Jim: How unrealistic can you be?
I’m scared of you old wicked snakes.
Snake: (It strikes the glass) If I get free,
I’ll find you even if it takes
ten years. You know, glass sometimes breaks!
June 12, 2023
Vibrant chroma dots the mountains and valleys;
we hike the Red River gorge, taking in it’s
majestic pigmentation; leaves of October
crunch beneath booted feet.
We take our journey with care, as the cliffs
can be deadly in an instant; still, the crisp
Kentucky mountain air is rejuvenating to
lungs, too long in the city’s smog.
I stop at the edge of a cliff, checking my sure-footedness and spot a doe leaping in the lower valley; taking out my camera, I snapped a shot
of this bold being.
I’ve taken lots of wonderful photos on this hike and as the sun sets, My friend whispers, shh...I look to see a Copperhead less than six feet from us; we are fortunate that he is not coming towards us; knowing its bite can kill, we stand perfectly silent and still, so as not to startle it until he gets far enough away.
I shove my camera into my backpack and we resume our slow trek down, the cliff where we’ll head back to our car.
October in Kentucky is full of amazing fauna;
still one must beware the dangers,
for the bliss of the resplendent autumn experience.
2-7-2022
A STRAND (1068) Poetry Contest
Brian Strand
SNAKES IN RURAL PENNSYLVANIA
The snakes in his head
were timber rattlers, easily
agitated, disinclined to fight,
their rattling a warning to all
before slipping away silently from
conflict or harm
Unfortunately for the fortunate son
his bride to be was a young copperhead,
golden brown and beautiful on the
dark forest floor among the stones and
wet soil of a Blue Mountain summer,
and unlike the rattler she was silent
and aggressive, looking for a fight!
A walking track through the forest,
shrouded by giants, providing shade,
with broken boughs, leaf litter and life,
and a cool mountain stream in a glade.
This stranger can only see beauty,
where many see nothing at all,
it may be complex of a flower,
or a trivial meaningless call.
But I’m not a casual observer.
The big picture is far from my mind.
I don’t need a grandiose view,
just the reach of close-by unrefined.
It’s magnificent scenery,
gaudy colours with the greenery,
sustaining birds and the native bee,
among the trees and the shrubbery.
Maidenhair, copperhead, yellow-ochre.
Ornithorhynchus and xanthorrhoea.
Antechinus, phasmid, orb weaver,
scenery hidden out of the way.
And so as my journey progresses,
my mind and my eyes grow so keen
for sight of one more hidden treasure,
or the privilege of knowing one’s been.
It’s wonderful knowing,
knowledge of the forest keeps growing,
whether it’s floral or an echo ping,
my scenery is a wonderful thing.
It’s magnificent scenery,
gaudy colours with the greenery,
sustaining birds and the native bee,
among the trees and the shrubbery.
For a child, a pile of leaves is better than a shiny toy.
But a copperhead can blend in perfectly.
Every neighborhood has a pile of leaves.
And a copperhead or two.
One fine day Ted sat up like an arrowhead
Straight out he jumped out of bed
Had a quick coffee and a bite of bread
Ted liked to think things through in his head
Nothing he liked better than plan ahead
‘It’s deplorable status quo that I dread’
In love for years with a lassie was Ted
Weekly baked the most enticing gingerbread
Today was the day Ted finally said
He needed to prove he wasn’t a hothead
Before Ted would ask his bonnie to wed
He needed to upgrade his shabby shed
Ted wanted first to purchase a quadruped
He went to see horses for sale chez Fred
There he purchased a thoroughbred
To pull his sturdy new sled
Went back to see over yonder that spread
The one for sale unless he’d been misled
He got that blessed go-ahead
Signed for mortgage on the right letterhead
So Ted sped and he fled
As if life hung by a thread
Off to his bonnie with roses so red
Addressed the daunting figurehead
For his daughter’s hand Ted pled
Lengthy itemized good intentions he read
In appreciation, they named their first born Ed
Then the next Copperhead Ned
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
Where are all the story songs,
like 'Gypsies, Tramps and thieves'?
'The Gambler' and ' a boy named Sue',
'Ruby', where his wife leaves?
'The night they drove old Dixie down',
the American Civil War,
and 'Coward of the County' where
the Gatlin boys got what for?
Major Tom was up there, floating round,
moonshine down Copperhead road,
a Horse with no name trod the sun bleached ground,
Georgia Johnny, the devil tried to goad.
Honey, we still miss you, and we're still not feeling good,
and 'Thriller' with those zombies lurking in your neighbourhood.
Nowadays, it's all bootys , and buxom babes, half dressed in their stilettos
all cruisin' round where Elvis saw a young man in the ghetto.
New music, short attention spans, in years you won't recall,
if it wasn't for us poets, there'd be no stories at all!
A hundred pounds bite.
It was a matter of faith
with copperhead.
A maddening silence
dodging the window,
where the moon sits.
The peril will always stay
reneging, of the big space
for next victim.
Quaint feeling persists.
Of shearing the clouds
to knit a bright Venus.
The eventual escape.
To be the name
on a bloodied sword.
Satish Verma
walking silently with the spirits of the woods
the stunning acquaintance of a snowy Owl
Hearing songs from many around yet not seen or found
careful your crossing a coral snake or copperhead
preparing to wave all rights to see beauty to live
one piercing bite from the red and yellow snake
deadly shy snake sudden death may await your fate
stillness and earth is touched with Cherokee blood
many tribes with sage and fires dances the brave
you see the wild mustangs ride and deer in mind
the squirrels the rabbits and wolves you hear
the woods once a many land to explore
becomes extinct with Mans desire to build more
how much can we take before it is gone forever
entered " in the woods contest "
Copperheaded Snake
Highland moccasin dread
Kin to cottonmouth
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