Shane Bowman

Puny

Aspiring graphic designer and part-time poet.






In a breezy field I walk
Breathing in life and thought
Beneath my foot it lies
A snail, snailing by
I consider for a time
Whether the piffling should die
But in a flash my life
Scrawny, benign
Crosses my mind
And my foot dodges
The creature before my eyes
And I continue trailing
Snailing by ...

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