When I took to the herbs
In my garden one day
What looked like a snake
Came sliding my way
He did not steer so close to me
But paused by the bed
Where my flowers would be
Our eyes met briefly
In an absent glance
Then his body began
To tremble and dance
He slipped out from what had covered him
In one swift movement under skin
Then slithered away
Without a sound
Beyond my beds, across the ground
And left the pale remains behind
Of flakey husk and crusty rind
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