An epidermis lies upon a heath,

its crinkly mass, cadaverous and rent,

The former owner’s energy is spent.

He basks, too tired to hunt for prey, beneath

the morning sun. Though he can hear no sound

his mental radar can discriminate

between repast and rival, or a mate,

from fluctuating tremors on the ground.

​

While thermoregulating he can sense

a mate is near. He hisses with delight

and ventures forth in hot pursuit. How bright

his zig-zagged coat is shining. The suspense

of what might lie ahead saps energy

and so he slithers slowly; not too slow,

just fast enough, preserving strength. He’ll go

to any length to forestall jeopardy.

​

From out of nowhere comes a rival male

who hisses angrily. The vipers slide

towards each other (as the female hides

nearby - the prize for he who can prevail).

Their bodies arc instinctively to seize

initiative. How elegant the way

their heads, with graceful ease, begin to sway;

Like flowers in a gentle summer breeze.

​

But this is war, and for an age they toil

to lead the dance; for every move is matched

by counter moves of equal skill and tact,

as scale for scale they intertwine and coil;

their bodies turning, twisting, looping left

and right with such precision. What a sight!

Two virile suitors dancing for the right

to love, with moves so rhythmical and deft.

​

A dazzling pirouette presents the chance

to make a winning move and twist around

and force his rivals’ head upon the ground.

His rival then recoils to stop the dance.

The contest won, he looks through lidless eyes

to see the vanquished snake evacuate

the scene. Nearby, curled up in grass, his mate

still waits. And so he goes to claim his prize.