Ana, on Green

Anacreon never wrote
a ditty 'bout a snake.
Anatomy of Anaconda
Nocturnal green and not opaque.

No anacrusis in this tune,
Just cold.

Cold red blood:
An anadiplosis of liquid love.

The anadromous approach
of green on green.
In shallow grass
hides deep black pools;
of eyes not ever seen.

Up he comes,
approaches prey
his anaerobic squeeze
begins.

It's time for anagnorisis.
For predator is just too strong.
The Anaconda now slinks back
and ends this analectic song.