It was a nasty little rattle,
well, maybe not so small
or so dreadful but more
loud and vigorous; I know

how she feels—threatened
by trespassers, dwelling
disturbed, den most likely
nearby. I am an unwelcome

vibration, a heavy-stepping
beast, binoculars focused
upward on winged things
until the diamondback

stops me in my tracks,
brings to light my lack
of anticipation that she
would even have a home

in the nature preserve;
her presence is everything
I need to remind me
why I flee from tourists,

that my overrun town
is not the only show in life.
Excited about the unexpected,
I tell a ranger down the trail

but shouldn’t have done so,
for he mistook my meaning,
reassuring me the snake,
a nuisance to visitors, would

be removed. As I said, I know
how it feels when your place
is for the benefit of others—
and locals be damned.