There was a snake
in the yard today.
My husband ran over it
when he mowed.
It sliced open
its belly revealing
the bodies
of two mice
it had eaten
before its end.
Its skin glistened
in hot afternoon
sun where
we examined
the damage.
A copperhead
beside the
greenhouse where
our barefoot kids
often play
picking clover
or catching
lightning bugs.
I spent too much
time afterward
about how it
could have
all played out
how a hidden
snake in tall grass
this humid
summer day
could change
our family’s
world with
one swift bite,
how even if the
venom didn’t kill,
risking exposure to
this virus at the
hospital very
well could.
The stakes are
higher now.
I hold my breath.
But then, I spend
too much time
thinking about how
could have gone
these days.