by Matt Bird

Created on: April 09, 2009   Last Updated: January 07, 2010

Poor little worm.

You're trapped in a puddle.

I watch as you squirm

Writhe, pitch and huddle.

It's your fault, you know.

You should have stayed in.

When the wind starts to blow

You should loathe surface din.

But up you came

Through the earth and the stone.

The weather can tame

You, it seems, and you alone.

You're learning your lesson

As I crouch at the edge.

No need to be guessin';

I'll stick to my pledge.

In plunge my fingers.

The water is cold,

With chill that long lingers

'ere this story is told.

You battle the rescue

From your watery grave;

Your rolls twist and skew,

You hate to behave.

But into the air

I send you away:

With heave and aim fair

You'll see a new day.

Back into the grass, worm.

Through dirt you should muddle.

I just saved your ass, worm.

Please beware the puddle.

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