Adam

I killed a snake with an axe once.
It was out in the driveway frightening
my grandmother, and she asked me if
I could kill it. Never having killed
anything I said yes and took
the old rusted axe, dropping
it down on the thin black snake.
Four inches and a head came off
with the thud of iron hitting dirt.
It wriggled a few times silently
in the dust.

*Gary Charles Wilkens teaches composition at Sam Houston State University in Huntsville, Texas. His poems have appeared in The Texas Review, The Cortland Review, The Adirondack Review, The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature, and Pemmican. His first collection, The Red Light was My Mind, is forthcoming from the Texas Review Press.