by Vickey Ward
A snake bite, a lost limb, lost years and
We’re dead and old one day,
Make believe it moves along,
Like orbiting pancakes,
Illusions expect to be shattered.
All slow off the mark,
The gravity of minds,
In whose absence even
The heaviest fall
Dirty words over-played, over-named
A flash, one friend moved, an empty room
Occupied, these occupations,
Infestations, seedlings, saplings, monster oaks
For tiny minds, but all fall prey,
When a snake bites.