as the snake,
the poisonous copperhead,
a pinkish brown,
stamped with diamonds,
slowly
drags
her fat body across
the bike path,
i wait.
i'm in no rush, and apparently
neither is she.
she seems to be full
of baby snakes,
fat in the belly.
is she going home, or
leaving?
so much of life goes on,
on both sides
of the path,
in the darkness of woods,
unknown.
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