Yesterday morning, dry crisp air, I saw

A snail on her stubborn path

Crossing a dry tar road

Running out of slime

Facing a dry morning sun, vehicles,

Dehydration and death



I seized the little coiled house, and put it

Into wet fresh dew grass beyond



When walking home, I thought:

Perhaps, one day, some entity

- You may call whatever you like -

Will grab me and put me onto my

Own, fresh pasture lands



© 2008 by Franz L Kessler