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Snail's Pace

It had climbed from the lavender
under the open window
and now creeps along the sill.
I think of Hughes' thought-fox
and Lowell's skunk,
then slow down...

slow down; for something
going at its pace the world
is so fast... my snail's feelers probe
tentatively ahead, I heave
myself over the minutest obstacles
leaving a silvery trace...

My godlike hand plucks the snail
and tosses it out - 'Don't even think
about living in MY house
without paying any rent, huh!'
In that also, it may be said
that I am godlike.

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