Small children wading underneath the fetid branches
Feral twisting rocks
The homes of cottonmouths
Pebbles rolling made of marbles
Old bald carpet underfoot.
Toes refracted
Sunlight broken legs beneath the water
Turn up stones
One step ahead,
Springing back from creatures
Distracted from their dreaming.
Rocks replaced and sibilance receding,
Deaf to all the splashing and the laughing,
The proud scramble up the bank.
Light descends.
The serpents drowse
Fangs fold inward
And venom sleeps again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great poem, full of images, light and movement, happiness and danger.