Warm Worm
Moss-heavy limbs fall from charge
of a warm southern wind
rest in a compost graveyard
of other arms that have been
Once boasted of leaves
awarded with weighted sog
pray if awarded knees
low water releases a fog
Time will turn you into swamps breath
and a story told around the table
As the matted hair of a beggars sets
as sure you’ll become a fable
Draw out the white worm that hides in the gut
with a warm bowl of cream
Demand it to uncoil from the inner glut
the foreign body within a scream
#
~By Shannon Laws
shannon p. laws 