Says the feathery tongue offlame
as the golden drooze of sap sizzles,
pours down the sisteroaks;
beauty’s slippage
down the arched boughs,
downward and again,
upward, a god-like awakening, a-Daphne- stepping- into;
and hiss hiss followinghiss
like the native snakes ofCalifornia of the beatific golden West;
ohhow they want to slither
back to the land’s immeasurable inferno; if not,
they know to strike out atevery heft
ofpick or shovel…
Imagine whole pasturescovered
with their Sssss-sss;
and not onevulture flings
his open wings
to claim them…