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A Brush With Death

Gliding out of my boot you came
and I stood thunderstruck as if lame
while you slithered out

pitch black with ridged scales
and light rings around your neck
and I waited for you to strike

facing death with white gleaming fangs,
seeing you uncoil and hypnotized

rather by common sense than fear,
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Roseann Shawiak 18 December 2013

I love your imagery and expression. Especially liked the last stanza, it was a landmine. Great poem, I enjoyed reading it. Thank you for sharing it. RoseAnn

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