A rustle:
The stripes of the garter
Are shaded from the June sun
By the leaves of ivy,
Dark and earthy and
Gleaming with the residue
Of a week's rain
So that it is hard at first
For me to see the frog
Alive and alert but still,
Protruding from the mouth
Of the snake.

A rustle:
The snake moves
To better do
What the snake will do:

Assimilate this frog
Who seems
Resigned to his
Immediate future
As the lifeblood
Of a snake.

Assimilation:
A slithering up from behind,
A consuming,
A wide-eyed, soundless
Disappearance.

There are no victims,
But it is difficult to watch,
All the same.

One Single Impression