Cobra

Am I coiled, snake in basket, hers to charm
With soothing words and laughter, at the
Times she'll choose forever? Maybe not that
Long, but I do rise when she has beckoned.
I do sway, entranced, when she is playing,
And she's close to me. Prey or mistress
In my vacant eyes? I am too dull to say,
I wait here on my wicker chair when she
Is absent. I no longer dream of slithering
Away. I strain to hear her coming to exert
Her music's tidal pull, and, though its
Strength may ebb at last, I don't believe
That now.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 22 times
Written on 2011-02-18 at 13:10

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