As a kid
Come Fall
I ran down the street
crunching leaves
stomping like hopscotch
rushing to meet up with
wind blown scarlet petals
Come Spring
No leaves to chase
But look
There are snails
Caught in the middle of the sidewalk
in the path of a naughty kid,
usually the younger brother
No!
Don't stomp!
You'll get bad luck
Devious as he was
Left behind
Slush and a crushed shell
The snail is a small and gentle soul
Humble and lowly to the ground
Marking a path of fortitude
From edge to edge of the grass
Remnants left behind from its purposeful way
Aiming for no where
But carrying forth
Be gentle to the snail
They have another purpose
Snails
Escargot
What are they doing on my plate?
