• Vol. 08
  • Chapter 07

A Serpent’s Tale

They were ready when it came,
with gleaming, sharpened swords,
and a shaman’s armoury of words.
For weeks, the serpent had, each hour,
captured, slaughtered and devoured
their chickens and their laying hens.
It watched from the river deep,
while they groaned in restless sleep.
Now they waited; stomachs grumbled
and overhead thunder rumbled.
The serpent rose from the raging river,
smaller than they had imagined,
its hair was weedy, it wasn’t wild,
and it was startled when a child
approached with fruit in hand.
The adults couldn’t understand
how an innocent gesture broke
the spell, how empathy spoke
a language, child to beast,
with the sharing of a simple feast.