Poetry

Green knee high grass
paves, covers the veldt
 
making the snake’s hideout
its place from where it sails.
 
First observe the snake
sneaking from the grass
 
while it passes camouflaged
to the next shade
 
or lies turned over
as if dead, showing its stomach
 
enticing you to pass, or to come near
to investigate,
 
maybe you’ll see the stripes
ringing its neck
 
in colours of cream
or something near to white
 
or maybe you may not
when in terror astounded
 
to whoever looks
it flashes alive
 
like a lightning rod
with death sizzling out of its mouth
 
and if you can paint this
you have the essence of it,
 
making terror alive,
in a snake which looks placid
 
but which can spit and strike
carrying death as far as it goes.
 
 
[Rinkhals: Spitting African Cobra.]