The squirrels in this bird nest are marginalising the snakes.
We measure the nest. It must have been a very big bird.
We fashion a podium determined to do what it takes.
We clamour for silence in a fey futile wish to be heard.
The snakes glisten. They listen, we think, with their darting forked tongues.
The squirrels chatter on, scatter off, commandeer the dry places.
The water wraiths rise and make light of our ladder’s low rungs.
The serpentine similes formed by our moistening boot laces
give signals we sapiens and serpents and squirrels are in deep
in this nocturnal nonsense disturbing what should be our sleep.