.
I watched a snail today
crawling on the garden path,
facing only forward,
looking neither left nor right.
It had a purpose,
its armoured house heavy,
its head bent and focused
as it inched its way
forward towards the lettuce,
the cabbage, the carrots,
the scattered leaves
in my untended garden,
the sluggish, sleeveless
afternoon of my retirement.
.
I like the simplicity of this poem. It’s very nice.
Thank you, Wogslandwriter. You are very kind.