by Nijole Miliauskaite
that place, where one spring
we saw a grass snake -
greenish gold
where a forest stream
curled around a meadow, laughing; fallen
trees lay rotting, not touched by anyone
so warm
and green
that place, where for the first time, I saw a grass snake -
his gold crown
all that is gone now
a twisted barbed wire fence
ensnares that place, enclosing some kind of buildings,
sheds, bulldozed ravines, mounds of gravel
and not a living soul
only a sign reads: "no trespassing"
Last updated January 14, 2019