First written in 2011
Snails like to ponder in puddles
thoughts lulled by the dull sounds of chewing –
comments on weather exchanged over breakfast
as company compliments the delectable foliage.
I keep faith that giant feet will simply miss them in the grass
but their shells are never broken
they are the homes of kindred souls.
When it’s raining softly
I can hear them humming gently
they dream of turning green just like a leaf but they cannot –
and so?
They eat the leaf instead.
Gabriella Florek 