SNAILS (at the margin V)

The upward path of June leads to a darkling porch;

silent, wreathed in suburban shrubbery.

Its slabs, wet from rain, dry under moonlight’s torch;

become a tentacle-eyed, horn stretching heave

of massed flat feet. Mucinous, glistery -

feast for thrushes! - is the pattern that they weave.

1986 / viii.2000