the strong curve of the
long back bent over
in the woodland shade,
ancient origin so dinosaur
in the damp,
historian of the forest.
slow stem of the spine unfolds
the hood of the S, the lean of the tail end –
bells hung, bright and thin, lilac. ominous
crying in the fey and the fell
leaf skin left behind after the
flower’s late fall in the long grass
your bulb of an eye sits
seeded and scaled
head laden, serpentine
holding up the clatter bag
in leaf layers, that blueprint
rattle pod to hold off extinction
I can’t pick you
up, only marvel,
walk carefully by
~ RATTLESNAKE
Victoria Punch is a voice coach and musician, writing from her home in Devon between the moors and the sea. She is curious about voice and identity, the limits of language and how we perceive things: her poetry comes from these explorations. She can be found on Instagram & Twitter @victoriapunch_ or at www.victoriapunch.co.uk