The copperhead and me
Oakley Ayden
how many times did my
bare callow feet retreat
into those sweating woods?
i don’t know. one time though
a copperhead coiled all her clout to strike me from her sanctum. i
related as i ran, risking slash in mother’s grass where the copperhead and me could
off-recordly be slaughtered —
beheaded, or desouled.