Ode to a Worm
Jul 22, 2017 · 1 min read
It might make some people squirm
to see the tiny, sightless worm,
who beneath the ground in dead leaves toils
to make the good seed growing soils.
The worm works hard to decompose
a coffin’s wood and dead man’s clothes.
Making meals of death and waste,
the noble worm creates some space.
Contaminating soil should be a sin
because the blessed worm breathes through its skin.
Without the worm, where would we be?
Without the apple, with out the trees.
So praises I raise to this wiggle wonder,
today and tomorrow when six feet under.