Photo by Aleksey Oryshchenko on Unsplash
I’m cutting grass with a sickle
in the big yard where I once spent
my childhood running.
Iridescent snakes spit and pee
to soften the grass for me.
Flashes of white light emanate
from forked tongues,
and a fragrance like rose water,
like fresh spring swells above.
When the sharp blade of my
sickle catches their bodies’ glint,
I blink, blinded by the radiance
and dancing fire in their eyes.
I’m kept warm in the serpentine
waves, circling back and forth,
honored that I’m chosen to be
in their company. My eyes mist
at this terrifying grace.
Mother comes out in her pink
nightgown to thank me. What time
is it? I ask. I’m anxious to get to school.
Eight o’clock, she says. Before I can
put away the sickle, Mother phones the
principal to say I’m assisting her.
She keeps me at home and shows me a new
patch to mow. Too frightened to disobey,
I move over. The snakes glide ahead
with a confidence that comes from bellies aligned
with the beating heart of Earth, and in touch with
all the wisdom of the land unknown to my feet.
Mildred Kiconco Barya is a North Carolina-based writer and poet of East African descent. She teaches and lectures globally, and is the author of four full-length poetry collections, most recently The Animals of My Earth School released by Terrapin Books, 2023. Her prose, hybrids, and poems have appeared in Shenandoah, Joyland, The Cincinnati Review, Tin House, New England Review, and elsewhere. She’s now working on a collection of creative nonfiction, and her essay, “Being Here in This Body”, won the 2020 Linda Flowers Literary Award and was published in the North Carolina Literary Review. She serves on the boards of African Writers Trust, Story Parlor, and coordinates the Poetrio Reading events at Malaprop’s Independent Bookstore/Café. She blogs here: www.mildredbarya.com