The story behind the poem
poem is about the man who owned our Italian house before us and who is
now our neighbor. He is as vigorous an eighty-year-old as anyone
could wish to be, still planting, pruning and harvesting; he may even
be seen bare-chested digging trenches.
He did remark once to
someone else that he had never seen a snake. This may be true - they
are not very common - but I think it more likely that he was
attempting to reassure. In the poem there is someone (maybe him, maybe
not) wondering under the influence of last season's wine and the
drowsy heat of summer whether they have perhaps glimpsed one in the
by Damaris West
Read the poem
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