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Snake
A garter snake fatter around than most
rests on the warm rocks beside the front walk.
I'm surprised when my wife asks
me to catch then release him
in her flower garden.
But he's a snake, I say.
Yes, she says, chewing her lip.
I want him in my garden to get rid of
the moles and mice. I smile.
He will get rid of the moles and mice won't he?
And though I know he's too small
for that I say yes dear and smile because
I simply can't resist the temptation
of putting a snake back into the Garden
at the request of a Woman.
Michael Estabrook
I'm empty-nesting here in Acton, Massachusetts, with the last child off in
college. This leaves me some time (between work and going to school myself) to finish about a thousand poems begun over the past couple years; also trying to get a real book of poems published, entitled A Superlative Woman (about my wife).
We must bless ourselves with peaches.
Pray to the eggplant, silent among her sisters,
That the seeds will not be bitter on the tongue.
Confess our fears to the flesh of tomato:
We too go forward only halfway ripened
Dreaming of the deeper red. - Naomi Shihab Nye
