In the veldt a spitting cobra is suddenly onto me

In the veldt a spitting cobra is suddenly onto me
and before it can strike or spray poison
there’s a rock that comes to hand
and I smash the head of the spitting snake

but where it lies toppled jerking
the grass, bushes and veldt trembles
there’s a curse that it says with its last breath
as if the dying of it mentions something unheard.

The vast earth grind and boil
as if rock banks gnash on each other
when the leviathan with its smoking breath
bursts from the depths

where suddenly sinister it peers at me
and seven snakeheads spit fire.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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