Gophers - Constance Miles

[Larry Robinson]

Gophers

I watched a gopher snake slide over
sun-steamed rocks, cozy up to the garden
hose on the ground, taut with water 
flowing to the purple sage. 
I watched as she slithered under the 
dwarf red Japanese maple and came out 
the other side. Her sleek body
an elegantly crafted pattern, her muscular
curves slowly shifting shape, slowly wriggling
her way across the path, head moving from 
side to side, continuously flicking her slender 
tongue, tasting the air around her.
I thank her silently for feasting on gophers, 
those pests who devour so many of
my perennials, the ones they weren’t 
supposed to like. My Buddhist husband 
appreciates them for being beneficial. 
He calls them little underground
rototillers, seeing the good in all beings. Me, 
I’m not so generous – I get indignant and
grumpy when they demolish the few things 
I planted without baskets. But, then again, 
nourishment for stunning elegance that 
restores the balance? Hey, that I can 
appreciate!

	- Constance Miles