Brumation

Maryam A. Ghafoor

I read another
poem written by a white person

about race. 
On a walk, I look 

down and see not a lake, 
not a reflection of myself, but

this snake we found, 
black and green,

white garter, curled
into itself for warmth,

half-tucked into a pile
of leaves on the sidewalk.

Not a great choice, I think, 
and don’t save it.

,