Snakes of Summer. POEM

All summer I saw them
as they scurried in front
of my whirling mower blades.
Some of them evaded the
metal blades.
The slower ones were halved
and quartered.

The first time this happened,
I was shocked and saddened.
The second time
angry at myself
remorseful
for mowing the fields
I called home
and thought of as my private park.
I made adjustments.

I walked the field with my dog
before I mowed, chasing the
gopher snakes ahead of me to their dens.

These slow moving, diurnal creatures
usually sunned themselves in my field,
readying themselves for active nights
hunting lizards and rodents.

Their prey is suffocated by the
constriction of loops of their
chocolate spotted body, and
then they dine, shyly,
maybe a little remorseful
about what they’ve done.