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To The Snake

Green Snake, when I hung you round my neckand stroked your cold, pulsing throat        as you hissed to me, glintingarrowy gold scales, and I felt        the weight of you on my shoulders,and the whispering silver of your dryness        sounded close at my ears —Green Snake—I swore to my companions that certainly        you were harmless!  But trulyI had no certainty, and no hope, only desiring        to hold you, for that joy,                                                 which lefta long wake of pleasure, as the leaves movedand you faded into the patternof grass and shadows, and I returnedsmiling and haunted, to a dark morning.

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Denise Levertov

Priscilla Denise Levertov (24 October 1923 – 20 December 1997) was an American poet. She was a recipient of the Lannan Literary Award for Poetry…

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