my bike down the long curve
of paved
path,
through the swampy
woods,
heading to the lake,
occasionally
i'll run over
a slow moving
snake.
not on purpose, of course.
but you can't
tell a stick from a copperhead
sometimes.
i imagine
they scream in their own
way
as the tires roll
over them,
but it's more like
a silent cry.
a reptilian moan
of sorts.
an existential sigh.
i try to lift my legs
as i continue
to ride.
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