Spring and Mr. and Mrs. Lumbricid


via WordPress for Phone http://goo.gl/j6Fzhf

feed on the wrinkled dead
I push under the earth

where it is dark, restful warm,
away from cold, hard soil towards
the surface. I wait.

If water seeps down
I cannot breathe
so must burrow
to the surface.

My late wife, Mrs. Lumbricid, heard
what she thought
was rain up top,
burrowed upwards,
emerged to Mr. Merula’s
tapping claw and sharp beak.

Soon our moon
will shine.

Treebark get wet.
Soon I will
leave this old self
above to decay
and show a new self.

Earthworm moon will rise.

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