Snake

Hmm, a few years ago they wanted a poem for class so I wrote one I guess. Like all of my poems on here about 1-2 years old.

Snake, green snake, to where to you slither?
How long, how long, until your skin withers?
Through the green grass and cold water,
Through the red sands and towards the sun, hotter, hotter.
When come birds of pray, do you dismay?
And when they shine upon you with leer,
Do you run and steer, in shock and fear?
But when you are not in danger,
O' how you are the violent stranger.
Quietly you wait in the grass,
Waiting, waiting, for someone weary to pass.
Slowly through time you still wander,
Until time parts you, asunder, asunder.