My Mistake

a puff of white
precedes each of my
footfalls as I jog                                                               
Kerri is hosting today's Poetry Friday Roundup!
on the desert path

from a distance I see
your supine form
stretched amid the
dried grass
sunning yourself in the
feverless winter sunshine

the arc and swerve
of your body
frozen in mid-undulation
catches my eye                                                                

I stop short
proceed with caution

one end of you is
tipped up in warning
but no rattling sound
accompanies your stance

the other end
shunned from my view
holds no clue
to your lifeless body

when I am right above you
I realize you are
a winter snake
a stick snake

my mistake

but good practice
come spring