Worm’s Eye View

 
I love to wriggle through loam, my home;

I enjoy stretching through the soil, my toil.

I am not a stick in the mud, m’lud!

I am Worm – earthy, honest, tiller of land.

My band work tirelessly, day and night –

Make roots grow deep, shoots sprout towards the light.

 

Woodworm, wormhole, bookworm, earworm, wormwood.

 

This worm is for turning

over new leaves.

For turning the sod over and over

Burrowing,

Fertilising,

Nourishing.

All that was solid, I break down.

 

Blackbird hears worm’s earthy song

Dances to the beat, claws stamp along.

Vibrations travel through the soil

Earthworm, excited, starts to uncoil.

Squirms through the black earth

Surfaces – to an outstretched beak.

 

Worming, wormery, blindworm, worm food, meal worm, earthworm.

 

Protesting – pulled from the ground.

Blackbird puts an end to his wormy sound.

Eyeless in Gaza

Three ways of looking at a blackbird

 

Why did Blackbird, with beak and talon,

Eyes aglow with weltering anger,

Forged in furnace,

Come screeching and tearing,

Crying bloody vengeance,

Against innocent Earthworms?

 

Because . . .

 

Why do Blackbirds, with drinks and popcorn,

Eyes agog with excitement and tension,

Roll up, roll up, come bring the family,

Perched on deckchairs,

Revel in righteous carnage

Of innocent Earthworms?

 

Because . . .

 

Why do Blackbirds, with banners and placards,

Eyes brimming with tears at wanton destruction,

Comrades come rally,

Against injustice,

Senseless slaughter,

Poor innocent Earthworms?

 

Because . . .

 

Earthworm lay . . .

Bruised and battered,

Concussed and shattered,

Amidst ruins of what once was home.

She had no answers.