Little Creatures

Last week when I brought some plants indoors for the

cold months, this little shell fell out onto my kitchen

counter. Isn't it just so perfect and tiny? I wonder

what little snail lived inside it!

Considering The Snail

The snail pushes through a green

night, for the grass is heavy

with water and meets over

the bright path he makes, where rain

has darkened the earth's dark. He

moves in a wood of desire,

pale antlers barely stirring

as he hunts. I cannot tell

what power is at work, drenched there

with purpose, knowing nothing.

What is a snail's fury? All

I think is that if later

I parted the blades above

the tunnel and saw the thin

trail of broken white across

litter, I would never have

imagined the slow passion

to that deliberate progress.

~~Thom Gunn