Photo by David Clode on Unsplash
by Jack Bedell
Morning, and the sun couldn’t possibly be more up. My brother and I walk the levee as close to the water as we can without getting our shoes dirty. Each of us is carrying a pillow case to collect all the snakes loosening up in the grass around our feet. It only takes one pass along the bank to fill our cases half full with the stiff ropes of their bodies. We mostly scoop them up without looking, knowing there will be more than enough time to pour them all out onto the concrete under our carport before our folks get back home. Just us two, big-smiling at that scramble of color spreading out around us, not a single thought about any fangs that might be within arms’ reach.
Jack B. Bedell teaches at Southeastern Louisiana University where he also edits Louisiana Literature. His latest collection is Ghost Forest(Mercer University Press, 2024). He served as Louisiana Poet Laureate 2017-2019.
