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 →
Posted in ,

Dave Bonta (bio) crowd-sources his problems by following his gut, which he shares with 100 trillion of his closest microbial friends — a close-knit, symbiotic community comprising several thousand species of bacteria, fungi, and protozoa. In a similarly collaborative fashion, all of Dave’s writing is available for reuse and creative remix under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 United States License. For attribution in printed material, his name (Dave Bonta) will suffice, but for web use, please link back to the original. Contact him for permission to waive the “share alike” provision (e.g. for use in a conventionally copyrighted work).


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


Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.