Cottonmouth sunning on a pine berm
after a loud shake in the leaves,
by shake I mean earth-shaking. Green
lizard after green lizard emptying
out of the forebay. I send a snapshot
to a friend who says, Yes, that’s a thick
snake. I want to see more. The world
isn’t miserably sad here. I expand
and live in the warm days. All April,
little sucking marks on blackberries,
popped seeds and filament in the shape
of a tiny mouth. Osmanthus flowers
kneeled into the oak hammock patrolled
by one worried cardinal. There is only
one egg in the bush. I think this is my fault.
I set an appointment for the first of May,
which is the earliest I can schedule
a subdermal birth control implant,
then ask everyone to visit me in June,
before Florida’s most recent
legislative agenda takes effect.

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Note: “At the Ecologically Engineered Stormwater Retention Basin” first appeared in print in the Kundiman South Zine.