Children play, counting beats and laughing.
"High, low, medium, slow, go run-through, jolly-oh, pepper!"
Ropes whip overhead and underfoot,
While feet are suspended within.
A jealous snake watches, hissing venom,
Suspended in a different world behind a window.

Time moves slowly, torturously, behind the window.
A life not long led, feels too old for its skin.
It longs to shed its bitter scales,
And join the laughter of children,
Jumping over, under, ropes of childhood dreams.
But watching in slow motion, the rope hangs.

Time loses meaning, anticipation hangs,
Like vines, choking out all else.
The jungle behind the window seethes.
Vines choke, ropes hang, snakes watch.
But children play, oblivious,
Unaware of jealous, bitter snakes.

Their laughter is venomous to snakes,
Whose venom only serves to poison themselves.
The snake behind the window hangs,
No venom left to maim and wound.
Only bitterness and flaking scales.
Poison fangs retract and hisses die.

The children smile, not knowing what it is to die.
Not knowing what creatures lurk behind panes of glass.
The rope is all they know.
The rope, the rhythm, the endless song:
"High, low, medium, slow, go run-through, jolly-oh, pepper!"
The melody of which grows, ages, and darkens.

The sun also hangs, and the sky darkens,
The horizon swallowing the evening light.
The children disperse, still laughing,
But the jealous snake does not move.
He is suspended by the rope,
And supported by nothing.

The snake hangs, darkening his window.
He knew what it was to die.
Now, in the darkness of his world, he is nothing.