The Snake

I nearly stepped on a snake today.
He was so obvious
yet so unnoticed.
A black rat snake.
Beautiful.
Shiny.
Unafraid.

Stretched out in the sun
across my path.
He saw me long before
I saw him.
But then,
he sees everything
and I see nothing at all.

Still
he didn't move.
The sun was too warm.
His flesh too comfortable.
His fear,
I like to think,
diminished
from studying me before.

So I talked to him.
Told him to remain there
as long as he liked.
I would not hurt him.

He didn't answer.
Just turned his head
and gazed through me.
A look from faraway.
Across worlds.
Across eons.
Across species.
With knowledge
I will never know.

Thus we carried on a conversation
of sorts.
I hope he understood
some of it.
I, who did nearly all the talking,
understood the silences.

Many have said they
intended no harm
to my kind
and then
in the very next breath
destroyed us.
I have learned
to be wary.

I carried my groceries
and dog food
and library books
around him.
Kept the dogs inside
to keep him safe.

He watched as I came out again.
Maybe trusting me
just a bit more.
Slowly rippled that
beautiful body
across the grass,
pausing in the perennials
Debra loves so
and then
finally,
simply appeared
in the fringes
of the woodland.

He didn't look back.
I don't suppose
I merited it.
After all,
I was neither supper
nor predator.

We both understood that.
Maybe it was enough.