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Saturday, April 24, 2010

Breathing Room

In a tiny jar
a snail slithers
among rocks and crevices
and a slice of carrot.
Occasionally she stretches
out and clings to glass - finding comfort
in traveling its circumference.
As I observe her slimy underside
suctioned inside her glass prison,
I realize six holes in a metal lid provide air
but leave no room to breathe.
Wistfully, I remove the lid
and set her free.


  1. Shauna Renee' said...

    I don't know much about poetry, but I did like this. My only thought is, it seemed more like reading prose than poetry. But that's just me.