When the clouds drop
low and ominous
reminding me of a
Gulf storm coming
after a pleasant fall day
digging a midst bulbs and sprouts
never saw that baby copperhead
small pit viper, it was
trying as I was
to make indentations
in that dark earth
masking thoroughly
the uneasiness of the raven's nest
the troubles that dominate inside
lace ropes of frailty
wrapping the inner chamber
that storm due in
an uncertain flood plain
bayous cut deep
will swarm with gators, snakes
better to stumble upon the copperhead
and not the coral snake
red and yellow
kill a fellow
and even a brooding girl
with a petulant pout...
but I choose rather to think
of fall flowers
black-eyed Susan
rock rose
blood sage
and not lurking serpents
the curse of a malicious existence
so I leave that nightmarish daydream
not daring to delve
into the impending storm
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