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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