Psalm to Snake
Margaret Atwood
O snake, you are an argument
For poetry:
a shift among dry leaves
when there is no wind,
a thin line moving through
that which is not
time, creating time,
a voice from the dead, oblique
and silent. A movement
from left to right,
a vanishing. Prophet under a stone.
I know you're there
even when I can't see you
I saw the trail you make
in the blank sand, in the morning
I see the point
of intersection, the whiplash
across the eye. I see the kill.
O long word, cold-blooded and perfect.
Margaret Atwood
O snake, you are an argument
For poetry:
a shift among dry leaves
when there is no wind,
a thin line moving through
that which is not
time, creating time,
a voice from the dead, oblique
and silent. A movement
from left to right,
a vanishing. Prophet under a stone.
I know you're there
even when I can't see you
I saw the trail you make
in the blank sand, in the morning
I see the point
of intersection, the whiplash
across the eye. I see the kill.
O long word, cold-blooded and perfect.
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