A Snake and A Hole In Kansas

1. State Park

A memory slides out of its hole.
An ancient pain
coils around and around on itself.

An extended tongue
splits open,
tests the air and is withdrawn.

The smell of fear
is present as the heat of my blood.
I'm condemned to hear

the whisper of rough scales rasping,
as the snake slides back down
in its hole.

2. Storm

A percussion of drums rocks the land.
What was blue sky shrinks.

Clouds climb as the flattened grass kneels.
In the west light blinks.

Red clay absorbs some of the rush, but
too soon, too much,

ditches gush with orange-colored blood.
It's a flat land flood.

3. Motel

I think back to the sound of the snake,
how we found no wood,

not even dead sage for a fire:
it was gas or dung.

A pickup drove by more than once.
We did not feel safe.

From inside our car,
we watched sunflowers heel over.
Then our tent blew down.

We deserted the broken showers.

In a safe, dry room,
we warmed cold sheets with our skin
and the sex was good.

4. Remembrance

I don't know
if you remember that day,
but I want to say
that once
we were genuine lovers.

Yes, were so.