The new owners call them
virgin--their four acres of desert--soon deflowered
by bulldozers, jackhammers and posts driven in. A rattle
snake wanders in, not aware he has been evicted
after a few million years. Though he has no brows
I would swear he reared up and raised them--a snake
afflicted with perplexity. What has become here
of home? A call is put in for the exterminator,
who has already dealt with the cougar, coyote,
mountain lion, javelina and quail. The wife dreams
of herself as Eve in a garden, a snake
crawling near, wrapping around her. His face
bears a resembance to Satan. She wakes her husband
to tell him. (c) 2009 by David Ray "Four Acres" appears in The Anthology of New England Writers 2004 as an Editor's Choice.