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Tuesday, September 17, 2013

A. E. Stallings: Momentary

Sometimes a snake is just a snake: a beautiful, mysterious creation of Nature. Forget the demonic components of the Abrahamic tradition. And it is good to read this poem also in opposition with Emily Dickinson's A Narrow Fellow in the Grass (http://banjo52.blogspot.com/2013/05/when-snake-is-just-snake-emily.html).

I never glimpse her but she goes
Who had been basking in the sun,
Her links of chain mail one by one
Aglint with pewter, bronze and rose.

I never see her lying coiled
Atop the garden step, or under
A dark leaf, unless I blunder
And by some motion she is foiled.

Too late I notice as she passes
Zither of chromatic scale—
I only ever see her tail
Quicksilver into tall grasses.

I know her only by her flowing,
By her glamour disappearing
Into shadow as I’m nearing—
I only recognize her going.

(A. E. Stallings)



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