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Don Bouchard
Poems
Feb 18
The Serpent
Watched the Lord come to the garden.
Heard the Voice call softly, “Adam.”
In anticipation, licked his lips,
Felt shivers in his snake-ish hips.
Still no movement from the bushes;
Human forms still held their breath;
Chortling serpent, breathless, waited
In the garden where came death.
Written by
Don Bouchard
65/M/Minnesota
(65/M/Minnesota)
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