Can Of Worms
a villanelle by David Coyote

Oh, wormy worms, I love you so.
My garden’s earth you toil and till
You eat, excrete, make veggies grow.

The secret things you wormies know
Learned in darkness, earth’s not still,
Oh wormy worms, I love you so.

You labor there, above I sow.
Your sounds of work are never shrill
You eat, excrete, make veggies grow.

Above your toil, the lawns I mow
Aware of beaded wormy hill
Oh wormy worms, I love you so.

In earth’s dark dampness deep below
No aches, no pains, no need of pill
You eat, excrete, make veggies grow.

You labor, wormies, while I crow
About my food, sans any bill
Oh, wormy worms, I love you so,
You eat, excrete, make veggies grow.




back    home     next

Wordcarver's Poetry Collection
'Can of Worms' © 2001-02 David Coyote
used by permission

to Eos Development home page