when i was a boy scout

when i was a boy scout i wasn't 
a boy scout. instead, i was a girl
without a girlness in the middle of the woods.
i am an expert in being unfit
for the job. of not checking any 
of the boxes. my gender, like a badge
i carried in my hand instead of wearing. 
my uniform, whatever the closet 
refused to give me. i could name all the kinds 
of snakes in pennsylvania. water snake
& ribbon snake & the endangered massasauga.
we would take hikes, me & the boys
& their father's holding their leashes. 
i was a free-range kind of animal. ate from
anyone's hand. i couldn't earn badges 
because i was a not-boy. the boys 
moved on without me. i talked to
the snakes. i asked them, "if you had to grow up
what would you do with your heart?"
the snakes always responded by blending in
with the brush. i joined them. tried to shed
any of the gender stuck to me. only scales
& cool breath. the sun spilled through
the tree branches. my father was off elsewhere
standing in the water looking to catch
a bullfrog big enough to ride home.
i got to know one boy who told me,
"i don't understand why you can't just
blend in better." i told him i was trying.
that it wasn't easy. he said he knew. that he 
did not know the names of any snakes 
other than the copperhead which he had
never seen. i asked if he wanted to see one
& he said no so i went alone to visit 
my venomous brother. the snake said,
"do not try to be like them. get on your belly.
love the world." i did as i was told.
all the boy scouts went home from
the camping trip except for me. my father had
to buy a terrarium & catch me before
he took us back home. on the ride 
i felt triumphant. he sighed. opened his mouth
& closed it. what was he going to say?
i did not ask & now it is too late. my boyness
was maybe right that. something gifted?
no something layered. he fed me rats until
i gave in. sat at the table again 
'with a crooked-tooth fork.