Rattlesnake

There was a snake that lived behind
His Dad’s Standard Oil Station.
On the restroom steps by the door,
It would lay there sunning itself.

The memory of the age of three,
A boy who saw the snake coiled there.
It waited to defend its high spot,
Blocking the way to the place used for peeing.

The shovel with Dad’s help
Dispatched the beast quickly,
Severing the snake in clean pieces
Head detached from body for safety.

The snake glistened in the sun,
It moved to and fro from the death twists.
The skin had cool colors and diamonds,
The tail housed a genuine rattlesnake rattle.

In the oil drum placed winding down,
Only the tail was outside the barrel.
The boy liked to play where the wilds began,
On the edge of the deserts beginning.