Snail

In rain I walk and feed.

My one foot sliding, gliding.

I move slowly, ghostlike.

Floating edges grazing the ground

like the skirts of a settling hovercraft.

I am burdened by encapsulating shell

which I utilise with mysterious ease.

Drawing back and recoiling

from sharp stones, from grass spears.

My body is pallid, lightly scaled.

with probing detectors

Ever-Searching feelers.

I am cold as ice

waxed and rhythmic.

A blind scare-head,

a four-horned deity.

I press the earth,

suck it hard.

My shell is glazed and shining,

high coils of precious beauty

with curled lips of finest enamel

that are silky smooth.

My wake shines and glistens.

An opalescent ribbon that
charts my nocturnal journey.

I am blind and cannot see,

but I know

Where I have been.

Reviews

[Norman 223]

A wonderful description here ,that seems to cover every physiological aspect of the snail. I'm glad you didn't mention garlic sauce, however:-)