I brave the night, a goddess on my own
back porch. I slip into the humid breeze –
la luna curls, an eyelash, while the stars
of Hercules and Perseus gleam white
and flicker on. I part the sea of dust,
my broom’s caress wipes clean the residue
of seasons past: the piles of dirt, the leaves,
the carcasses of roaches. Mountains bow
to me. The last one fades, but in its wake,
tucked in the corner of the porch, a snake
uncoils, slithers towards my trembling feet.
The goddess in me cowers down my throat —
I’m no creator, no destroyer, just
another squealing wuss in cowgirl boots.
Originally published in the 2013 Texas Poetry Calendar, Dos Gatos Press