from "While Passing Through"/Summer
A snail's tracks—
silvery foot prints
left on the sidewalk
where it inched under its load—
"I was here, " they say—"look—see."
Snail tracks is another cute little poem that makes its presence felt on mother earth with its gentle foot marks. Nature's divine ways....Thanks Glen
A snail's tracks— silvery foot prints left on the sidewalk where it inched under its load— " I was here, " they say—" look—see." - - - - - -Your poem 'Snail's morning ' led me here to another marvelous poem on snail. A keen observation of life in nature. The snail inched under its load and yet left its silvery footprints on the sidewalk.
Hey, Bharati! Glad you found this one. And thank you for your kind comment. I can’t seem to help relating what I see in creatures to myself and people in general. May we so live that when we are remembered it will be for the good we did, for how we made the world a better place. —Glen
Adeeb, you’ve discovered my fascination with snails! Thank you for finding, reading, and commenting on this poem. May wonder be constant in your life. -Glen
I have an aversion to snails...! The footprints they leave behind are a little repulsive to me! I don't like snails as they eat away my orchid buds! But I love the way you have described its visit and its 'inching under the load'!
I relate to your aversion in that they’re garden pests here too. And yes, their tracks, from another point of view, are slimy. The French eat snails! Thank you for reading and commenting on this poem, Valsa. I smiled. -Glen
What a lovely image for the passage of a snail - -made me wonder how a hummingbird viewed our passage through life... probably dirty, littering, ponderous, and destructive compared to the creatures who live in tune with their environment. Anyway, back to your poem- - lovely and articulate.
thanks, susan. hmmm... maybe a poem in that hummingbird's view of us? be well! -glen
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Lovely poem, Glen! I love the silvery footprints and look - see. I guess a poet's poems are like our silvery trail. And our actions in life. He sees...