Cobras of the desert
Copperheads and Rattle Snakes
Never seen in coiled up form.
Multi-jointed, multi-colored,
Listen to their clickety
Clack clack rattle
As they slither quickly
Across the scorching desert
In segments one mile long.

Their tracks are almost hidden
Beneath the scrubby sagebrush
Baking in the sun beside Route 66
And arcing off across the sand
In every which direction.

They scar the empty wasteland
In a spider web design
That goes on until forever,
And meets itself at
Precise angles
In the burning emptiness.

Serpents of the God of Commerce,
Following the tracks of others.
Kaleidoscope of moving patterns,
Always changing, still the same.

Cobras of the desert
Never rearing up to strike,
Fleeing as if somehow startled ,
Never turning back, they fly
Off to unknown times and places
Leaving flaming desert sands behind.
ljm