The satisfaction of cold air

The satisfaction of cold air

In summer

The heat of the day

Laid waste

The lack of conscience.

What worries me

Is the nature of cold blood

A snake lies in wait

In the shadow

The longer it sits

The slower it gets

It will move before

It becomes inert

It will uncurl

Bask

Hiding behind the air-con unit

Where it is baking

Sharing space with the redbacks

Waiting for the unwary

The stray

A mouse would be good

Finger-sized

A flat white stone is stuck

Where it lands

Finding a home

Settling in for the long haul

Warming itself ready

To release its breath slowly

Under the stars

Breathing easily by morning

It loves a sharp frost.

The snake hates the lawnmower man

As do I

The blower,

Such a waste of resources

When a little overgrowth

Is better by far

It hides a multitude

Home of the brave.

The field mouse

Gets it in the neck

Every time

Danger on all sides

Never a moment’s respite

His heart beats quickly

Fast twitch muscle

Working overtime.

The snake waits

For the right moment

Fully charged

Its twitch is faster

More directed

Oft-times,

Though even-handed

The nature of things

Can lack fairness