For Paul Brookes’ December challenge.

Serpentine

Summer there are snakes here,
beneath plums and blackthorns,
the elms and trailing vines.

They nest in vole burrows,
waiting for the meadow
to rise up from winter,

to slink, heavy-bodied,
grey-green silvered, among
orchids, a reapers hook,

to clean up spare fieldmice
set purple heads nodding
green grass stalks quivering.

A noble enough task.