Snake Seance
There are no rituals
now
that the ear bends
toward
only to surface again
in full color.
The rainbow is a river,
a storm of vibration.
How can the prism
violate like a guardian
the flower of our youth?
Together we become
still and quiet
as we make love
from napkins and silverware,
pearl necklaces and rubies.
We are richer by far
than
slander.
But the spider is hanging
near the gopher hole
during our chants--
and love brings the rattlesnake
upward again
like a cloud
only the city lights illuminate.
The entire poem takes you own a journey. The last four lines are blazing. Excellent poem.
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