A snake swerved like a drunk driver through the unkempt grass

Martha drinking her coffee from a chipped clay mug,

Sitting in her hammock

Under the dogwood tree

Listening to the saccades sing

“Oh to be innocent,” She thought

Martha saw the snake curling around itself beside her

She slipped her foot from her shoe

And dangled it in front of the snake.

“Oh to be poison,” She thought