you barely avoid
the long slow snake.
a copper head
as you ride
your bike along the path.
the rain has
brought him out
from hiding.
he hardly moves
across the paved
trail,
his perfectly
stitched and diamonded
back.
brown and beige,
soft in the late
afternoon light.
he's in no hurry,
it seems.
one side of the woods
being no
different from
the other. he'll
there when he gets
there.
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