Worm on the pavement
How are you doing?
Are you purposeful, or lost?
What is it like, to come out of the soil in a rainstorm
in search of somewhere not waterlogged,
and find yourself between a rock and a hard place?
You look vibrant, nosing forward
Muscular, sensitive, alert.
But I don’t fancy your chances.
Soon you will be gull food
or bloated in a puddle.
So I pick you up; the warmth of my hand discomforts you.
You writhe and lash wildly until I place you on
the grass nearby, where you seem to relax.
That must have been disorientating.
I hope I didn’t just set you back half a lifetime’s travel
on some epic quest.