Adder-Stones
Every once in a while, the black ribbon snakes congregate in my front yard
knit themselves into a writhing mating pile, disgorge thumb-sized stones
disappear back into the knee-high weeds when they’re done. It’s important
to gather these stones as soon as possible or they’ll lose their magic
become bits of indistinguishable broken gravel to trample underfoot.
I have drawers full of these stones, and have surrounded my house with
the tiny black rocks that come only from snakes.
They keep the birds out of the chimney,
the mice from coming in, the bats from scratching at the window.
I even put one in my pocket every morning before I leave the house
so that the men I encounter know I’m serious when I am.
The Mouse and the Snake
The snake noses its way towards the warmth of the mouse
huddled against the wall of the cage, trying to be invisible
holds its breath so that not even the sound of its tiny lungs rasping
can be felt by the smooth snout of impending doom.
How long do those moments stretch before incoming death
from the first tentative nuzzle to the black certainty of nil?
Can seconds feel like days when you know they’re your last
or does it all feel the same, except you know it’s the end?
The Funeral
We put the toaster in the paper boat, set it in the water. Predictably,
the paper boat collapses under the weight of the boxy toaster, crumples around it
like a flower at sunset, sinks to the stones lining the bottom of the lake.
It’s hard to bury a toaster properly, pay homage to the service
a household appliance has given one’s family for so many years.
Someday, when robots excavate the ruins of our homes, they’ll wonder
at the ignoble way we discarded these appliances, gape at the savagery
of mobiles and windchimes made from blender blades and cake beaters
hypothesize about the significance of so many televisions and cell phones.
Perhaps they’ll find our toaster, rusted solid after years of being submerged
marvel at the waste, wonder at the ceremony.
About the Author:
Holly Day’s writing has recently appeared in The NoSleep podcast, Talking River, and New Plains Review, and her published books include Music Theory for Dummies and Music Composition for Dummies. She currently teaches classes at The Loft Literary Center in Minnesota, Hugo House in Washington, and the Indiana Writers Center.