Silver Trail

By Lynn White

᠅

It slid carefully
from under the plant
and slowly down the pot
like a body sliding out of bed
in early morning
uncertain
of the way to the bathroom
in a haze of sleep.
It didn’t like the carpet
and made uneven progress
across its pile.
The cat looked at it uncertainly
stretched out a paw
then withdrew it
in doubt
as the slug waved its horns
this way and then that
uncertain too now,
thirsty and dry
in too deep
drowning
in wool
and dry
so dry
shrivelling up
out of its depth
leaving
only its trail
of shining
silver
behind.

᠅

Lynn White lives in north Wales. Her work is influenced by issues of social justice and events, places and people she has known or imagined. She is especially interested in exploring the boundaries of dream, fantasy and reality. She has been nominated for Pushcarts, Best of the Net and a Rhysling Award. lynnwhitepoetry.blogspot.com and facebook.com/Lynn-White-Poetry-1603675983213077/