The News I Fear

Slugs are not much loved.

Maybe God loves slugs,

But who knows?

..

One day in the garden, no slugs.

Next day,

slugs.

..

The invisible destroyer becomes solid,

Well, almost solid;

It’s a slug.

..

Rare is the animal whose name so suits its physicality.

..

Alzheimer’s.

Now there is a name that suits its own ugliness.

Maybe if I was German…..

..

The invisible destroyer becomes solid.

My mother is walking back and forth in her own kitchen

Not knowing where she is.

..

One day in the kitchen, no Alzheimer’s.

Next day…….

No, I lie.

..

Slugs take their time eating away,

Chewing, or whatever they do to petals,

Until one day I notice what is gone.

 

 

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About alicebarrett

Small town writer
This entry was posted in Literature, Poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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