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Prophecy in Farm Yard Flesh Part 2

February 14, 2012 | Comments: 0 | Views: 131

The farmer dies. The son sits in traction right now. All that's left of the farm is plow and woman so heavy, but the sun burns her fair complexion. These stalls need inspection daily. The rooster crows, the bellowing of calves and sows alike, the Ox that once took the rooster's life, the green tree provides shade for the barn. And all is me; I've been here all alone." And the hen's cry comes from the grass. A chill runs up and down the snake's spine. "I am in the open ground," he says, "I must turn myself to fly." Cat meows. The dog trots over to the pen to play. "It's getting a bit risky now. And here now comes the woman with the plow. Goodness, won't she drop that heavy beam? Where's the farmer now? Poor poor thing. Iron's cooled and rusty. Wish that kid would stop beating on me with sticks. Poor poor poor me. "Pardon, do you have the time?" "Get away, nasty killer snake! You bit my husband! Put my teenage son in bed with half a wit and useless legs. He don't play anymore, just lies in front of the TV. or goes driving around with his friends, searches for answers in the midnight hours. I know full well of your wicked powers! But enough. I've got a job to do! But -- when I'm done I'll take care of you!" The serpent staggers back but whips it's tongue. "Outta here, snake! Don't want you here anymore or even near this farm! And if I do you die. I'll grind you up, feed you to the sow who'll eat anything, even her own young if I fed them to her. And all that will be left of you is the skin, the slime you shed the other day in the grass out near the rabbit's hole under the barn's shadow where you lie in wait for things of innocence and littler than you. I'll give you to the ground for next year's corn." So the serpent hisses, slips away. The hen cries from the bushes, and the snake peers around it as the woman disappears. "It's kind of cold out here in the open sky. For so many years I've sat still in the grass, watching and hoping for that man to die. But things don't end up like they're planned. Who could anticipate the coldness of sand? But the bushes stir, draw the snake from his thoughts. Silent he shivers, and the thick air is tread through loud. Prickly hairs rise upon the cold snake's back. So he dreads an attack is coming, though he can't quite see it. "Enemy behind that hill. Now what if he's off to the barn when I'm turned? I must not leave the woman and the daughter alone too long. They're too easily tempted and may be taken by another." He laughs but knows he'll leave like Saul. "What?" He says. "No lion in the road. I must have been looking at a bird or a cow. Yes, a cow with gossamer wings, but then don't only insects have them?" He's confused. "Cow-fairies," he chuckles to himself, "yes, I must be going mad." And he laughs with a low snake and chuckle mixed with venom drips to the ground, where he the shape of the scarlet "S" appears three feet across, shades of brown tinting in the grass. I coil as he turns away from it, then throws itself upon him in a most peculiar way, imbedding right into his skin, "ouch, but such is the brand of sin," he says. And to think for eons this I feared? Not much compared to all my thousand deaths. I should've killed the farmer sooner outright." But the hen calls out again, and the house-cat strolls out to play. And the green leaves of the bush to his right stirs, "no!" says the serpent. Past the trough, through the fence he flees to the meadow and the grassy yard "They drew me out! They did! How could I be such a fool! The farmer's son is in his room cleaning his gun. And the farmer isn't really dead, I know it!" Tenderly he peeks between the leaves, but all is open ground and the turkeys flirt with the natural breeze. "I'll wait," says the snake. "I'll wait until they show their next move. Then through the grass I'll stealthily escape, or bite yes, I'll stay and bite with deadly venom all skin I see with all my might.

For more writing by Don Standeford, visit

Source: EzineArticles
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