The Snake that Wasn’t

First, it prompts barking, then slithers,
Its brown face poking, scaled, from the trees.
Bamboo and rock can’t expose its camouflage,
yet the dog is wiser.
Trapped by barking and pool, the reptile skulks
while, in Sunday daze, we search out “Kimberley snake control”
and keep the dog at bay.
In a flash between leaves, two feet and blue tongue emerge;
foe turns to friend, perhaps,
but dog barks still, unsure if friends
can have blue tongues and scaly feet.
Anti-climax wags its tail in Broome September heat.
Cautious, slowed, the lizard backs
a hesitant retreat.

Published by Matthew Pullar

Teacher, writer, blogger, husband, father, Christian. Living in Wyndham in Melbourne's west, on the land of the Kulin Nation. Searching for words to console and feed hearts and souls.

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