This garter snake was out right on top of the windy ridgetop two days ago, and as I long as I watched it, it did not in fact flick its tongue at me. So that first will have to wait.
I live in an Appalachian hollow in the Juniata watershed of central Pennsylvania, and spend a great deal of time walking in the woods. My books of poetry include FAILED STATE: HAIBUN, ICE MOUNTAIN: AN ELEGY, BREAKDOWN: BANJO POEMS, and ODES TO TOOLS.
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