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More poems by Theodore RoethkeTheodore Roethke | Print this page.Print | View and Write CommentsComments | Books by Theodore RoethkeBooks by Theodore Roethke

Snake

Theodore Roethke

  
I saw a young snake glide
Out of the mottled shade
And hang, limp on a stone:
A thin mouth, and a tongue
Stayed, in the still air.

It turned; it drew away;
Its shadow bent in half;
It quickened and was gone

I felt my slow blood warm.
I longed to be that thing.
The pure, sensuous form.

And I may be, some time.

Added: 16 Jan 2002 | Last Read: 17 Jan 2018 6:07 AM | Viewed: 7598 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/2495/ | Viewed on 17 January 2018.
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