TO THE SNAKE

web | The Sun Is but a Morning Star

Green Snake, when I hung you round my neck
and stroked your cold, pulsing throat
                  as you hissed to me, glinting
arrowy gold scales, and I felt
                  the weight of you on my shoulders,
and the whispering silver of your dryness
                  sounded close at my ears

Green Snake I swore to my companions that certainly
                  you were harmless! But truly
I had no certainty, and no hope, only desiring
                  to hold you, for that joy,
                                                                        which left
a long wake of pleasure, as the leaves moved
and you faded into the pattern
of grass and shadows, and I returned
smiling and haunted, to a dark morning.

1946

© Denise Levertov
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© E-publisher LiterNet, 29.05.2010
The Sun Is but a Morning Star. Anthology of American Literature. Edited by Albena Bakratcheva. Varna: LiterNet, 2008-2010.