Josh Seymour lives and writes in Virginia.

Laughing Serpent
By Josh Seymour

Near my house there is a river that runs along,
coiling and winding along the land
like an enormous snake after its prey.
I walk along its widespread banks,
the rocks strewn at the bottom of the water
making up its scaly skin, glittering and shining
with the help of the sunlight reflecting
off of the surface. I watch as the fish swim
towards the head of this great serpent,
not knowing that once they do so they might
be swallowed up and never seen again. For I know that
at the end of this river lies a waterfall,
crashing down upon the withered rocks below
where many people have lost their lives,
and through this crashing I can hear the faint sound,
the sound of the serpent’s laugh.