Anaconda Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

The giant anaconda’s scales glint, gleam.
serpentining slowly in between
branch overhang of some piranha stream.
Strength selection studied shows in gene
through evolution’s jungle grey, brown, green -
that, sunlit, on reflection, golden seem.
Gravely swaying, swathed in glistening sheen,
she undulates through undergrowth, is seen
sliding with tongue fork-hair,
gliding over there,
where a great gurgling geyser
ceaselessly hisses steam.
Though modern, South American, this scene
a prehistoric portrait might have been
when taken in the context of ringed layer
on layer of suitors curling round spawn glair…
How can she judge between them, how compare?