Watch me, I am the living
snake that sheds its skin.
Watch this emerald sheath turn to grass.
I go on forever. I am the green
flash, quick as summer
lightening. I am that fast.
I am the cobra. Kiss me
and your village will be saved.
I am the boa constrictor that hangs
in the apple orchard at noon.
I suspend myself, the garden
snake that traces the hidden narrow
places in the grass no one will follow.
I am imperfection. Watch my mistakes,
how they glisten, how I crawl
in the dust where petals fall,
those roses you call perfect.
Watch me shed my skin, that once familiar shape,
call it Mother.
I barely remember
my past. Each summer
I bunch and lengthen.
I devour. I bloom.