TAE Gallery: artwork, photography, poetry, songs, and book arts


Worm

A wet fog drips, drips, drops to the ground
From redwood canopy, silent sound
In quiet harmony with insect’s
Choir drone. Water pools—light reflects
In deep shadow—sparkle all around.

Below forest floor a worm is found,
Happily cruising through moldy mound
Of decaying mulch on muddy treks.
     A wet fog drips.

A pink crawler, intercepted, wound
Now around a hook, wriggling, drowned
As bait, hopeful dream a trout rejects.
An angler reels in empty line. Flecks
On blank hook. Above the waters browned,
     A wet fog drips.

 

 

© 2004 Thomas A. Ekkens