by Ahrend Torrey
Amid high brown cypress in thick
dark air, amid the scent of dirt
and fern, Water Moccasin
lurks head-up, through
black water— question mark,
after question mark.
Cicadas in the distance—
buzz, buzz. Some-
where between they merge
with crickets’ chirp
lacing through the dark air:—
what throbs and throbs of faint light.
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