They’re terrifying, yet alluring
Every time I see one, I hear my mother’s voice from my childhood
"Snakes built those"
But how?
They’re a mound of perfectly circle clay balls
Stacked perilously atop one another with a perfectly shaped hollow hole straight down the middle
They call to me as I walk past
Creatures below the earth sing sweet siren songs
The mystery shall live another day
I’m too afraid to topple the tower and investigate
I will continue to be in awe and imagine these mystical snakes with tiny hands
Rolling clay like dough until they have a ball to build with
Because God forbid I lean into my calling and actually reach a single finger down the tiny hole
I would surely die
I would surely die
