Searchers

This entry is part 65 of 91 in the series Toward Noon: 3verses

Fresh from their hibernaculum
under the lawn beside
the stone well,

the male garter snakes
thread themselves into a throbbing knot
and pull apart, thwarted.

Where is she? They circle
like eddies of wind, old skins
whispering through the grass.

Series Navigation← Rite of springMigrants →

2 Comments


  1. I like “hibernaculum.” That’s a new word for me, and that image of the snakes… wow.

    Reply

Leave a Reply