In The Dark

a poem by John Starks, USA

The snake does slither in the darkest night -
He, undetected, silently does glide
As prey or victim, close enough to fright,
Is prone to run, but has no place to hide.
Man walks - vibrations notify the snake,
Which, lying still, appears to be a stick
That knows his foe does cause the earth to shake,
But hypodermics are prepared to prick.
The man does hear a warm familiar voice;
His lips create what passes for a smile
As something subtle makes a telling choice
Whose fangs were sharpened by a craftsman's file.
The snake is set to hit his unseen mark,
And mortal man is waiting in the dark.

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