It is a grass snake.
It is curled in autumn leaves.
It is autumn leaves.
In it is a curled grass snake.
A curled autumn snake?
Is it? It is leaves in grass!
It is curled in grass.
It is a snake autumn leaves.
Curled leaves in grass.
It is a snake. It is autumn.
Is it a snake in grass?
Is it curled autumn leaves?
It is curled. It is grass.
Snake leaves in autumn.
Autumn leaves in a grass snake.
Is it curled? It is!
Kim M. Russell, 29th November 2019
My poem for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads Weekend Mini Challenge: The Uncertainty of the Poet, also linked to dVerse Poets Pub Open Link Night and Poets United Poetry Pantry
This weekend I’m hosting the Weekend Mini Challenge and noodling about with words in an attempt to emulate Wendy Cope’s poem ‘The Uncertainty of the Poet’, which was written in response to a 1913 painting by Giorgio de Chirico. The poem is written in eight couplets of short lines and restricted to a small number of words. You can read it over at the Imaginary Garden.
I got the idea for the poem from an article I was reading about how grass snakes lay their eggs in piles of leaves and compost heaps, where they hibernate between October and April.
writing in north norfolk 
Very nicely done, Kim. This is much more difficult to accomplish than it may look. I love your snake of autumn leaves.
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Thank you, Kerry.
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Not my favourite critter but you really do it justice!
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Thank you, Jae!
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I, unlike many, loves snakes — having raised 52 in my basement in my childhood (my mother was a saint). I also like the smell of skunk, so no accounting for taste. But I really enjoyed this poem. English word order is drastically important and the play here with the same words over and over kept me standing in the grass looking at the autumn snake. The Japanese languages uses little words to mark the function of words in their sentences, so word order is much more fluid — your poem made my bilingual mind flip carelessly between the two languages.
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Thank you, Sabio. I also like snakes. I had friends in Germany who kept snakes. I like what you say about the way the Japanese mark the functions of words in sentences.
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Also, the poem reminded me of a custom I still have with my children (now 18 and 20). Instead of saying “Night, night. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.” I always have done some twisted word order and odd word switch for the saying to make it nonsense — a tease to the mind that nonetheless puts the mind where it wants to be. 😉
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Really nicely done. I’ve always liked playing around with word order and punctuation. Never thought to make poetry of it though. This looks fun and challenging.
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Thank you! I’m just about to read and comment on the rest of the poems. They’ve been great.
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This rang a bell with me, Kim.
Beware, “A snake in the grass.” I would use this to warn of a sneaky, treacherous person. Laying low but one who could strike any moment.
With this morning in my mind since who knows, I checked with google, “a snake in the grass:”
“… this metaphor for treachery, alluding to a
poisonous snake concealed in tall grass, was used in 37 b.c. by the Roman poet Virgil ( latet anguis in herba).
I liked your work here a lot. Thank you for this nice prompt.
..
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Thank you so much, Jim.
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I’m grinning from ear to ear. There is so much joy in the tone of this poem, in the shape, the colors… And that final “It is!” Leaves a soul full of autumn glee.
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Thank you, Magaly, that’s a wonderful thing!
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The poem sure curled around and around. So many ways to say!
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Thank you, Colleen!
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How cool was that, that curly poem!
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I like that – a curly poem! 😉
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Love it. This prompt, at least for me and as I read yours, leads to poems reminiscent of Gertrude Stein. Which is a great thing!!!
I hope you are feeling better, Kim.
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Thank you for linking my poem to Gertrude Stein, Marian, and thank you for the good wishes. The antibiotics seem to be working and I can breathe again. After yesterday’s setback, I’m back at the computer and ready to read and comment.
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Marian, I can’t find any way of commenting on your stunning poem, so I thought I’d get back to you here. I love the image of the belly-moon, so low and swollen, so pregnant and glorious!
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Nice repetition of different perspectives on that snake in the grass or autumn leaves.
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Thank you, Frank.
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Gorgeously rendered, Kim! ❤️ I love the smooth flow and different perspective which follows in each couplet. 🙂 Thank you for the inspirational prompt! 🌹
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Thank you, Sanaa! The antibiotics seem to be working and I’m breathing more easily this morning. I’m ready to read and comment!
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I am so happy to hear that, Kim! ❤️❤️
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I can feel the snake in the crispy leaves. Well done. And a cool prompt.
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Thank you, Sherry. I’m just about to read and comment. My chest infection had me laid up again yesterday.
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Howdy, little sneaky snake!
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Howdy, Shay!
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I always watch out for snakes on my walks hidden in the leaves. They are tricksy, very tricksy!
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We don’t get that many around here, mainly in the dunes along the coast, but I have had an adder in the garden during the summer.
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This is great Kim…hypnotic, tight and very clever…JIM
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Thank you, Jim!
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That poor snake couldn’t wait until you finished; he’s trying to get to sleep! It is a wonder he didn’t bite you. This poem was excellent.
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Thank you, Robin!
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Such an interesting writing structure Kim. Wishing you a good weekend.
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Thank you, Grace.
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I love the way you create uncertainty – is it or isn’t it? – until the final, almost jubilant declaration.
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Thank you, Rosemary, for appreciating the tone.
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The technique gives simplicity layers of lovely complexity. I hope the eggs — and the snake — make it through until spring.
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I think I might try something like this is a dVerse prompt in the new year, Jade.
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🙂
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Tread lightly takes on a whole new meaning …. snakes give me the willys. Though your poem brought a smile.
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Thank you, Helen.
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Love the little snake, I really see it as a sweet little one leaving in autumn… perhaps to sleep in the leaves.
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Thanks Bjorn.
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You did this very well, Kim! By the way, how’s the little man doing?
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Thank you Viv. Lucas is better now. It’s me who is getting over a chest infection and vomiting virus, which I picked up while I was staying with them. The antibiotics seem to be having a positive effect, but I’m still wobbly.
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Awww bless you, Kim! Get better soon 🙏🏽
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A tough prompt – I like the images in this one!
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Thanks Rajani!
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An interesting introduction to a world you created. I can imagine the smells of fall leaves, of unseen snakes and your surprise “It is!” that could be either from fear or glee. You don’t tell us and you shouldn’t. It is for us to imagine. Thank you.
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Thank you for reading and commenting.
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I don’t know if that’s a snake or leaves, but I’ll just be leaving it alone, all the same. I like the uncertainty of this poem. made me squirm in my seat a bit. 🙂
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🙂
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Interesting Circular poem 🙂
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Thank you, Pratibha. 🙂
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Snakes are bad tempered as they fear being trodden on and a probably upset with the term “A snake in the grass” which ignores their right to slither free as we do!
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