Steve Braff
I saved five worms today
as they lay plump and limp
upon the wet pavement –
blind altar of ignominious death
by the coming heat or passing car.
I saved five worms today
as I plucked their slippery bodies
stretched supplicant, almost inert
from the indifferent asphalt
and tossed each to shelter
in the wet grass.
I saved five worms today
only to recall and regret
the child I once was
absent care or concern
who blithely walked by
– no doubt upon –
their benevolent bodies.
I saved five worms today
only to see my path forward
scattered with their unsung dying
the inevitable suffering
the immensity of it
till I refused to look down
eyes locked on the horizon
mumbling poetry
as I made my way home.