Gedicht
Kay Ryan
THE LATE WORM
THE LATE WORM
THE LATE WORM
The wormswhich had been
thick are thin
upon the ground
now that it\'s gotten
later. They stick
against the path,
their pink chapped
and their inching
labored. It’s a
matter of moisture
isn’t it? Time, a
measure of wet,
shrinking, the
drier you get.
© 2008, Kay Ryan
From: Poetry, Vol. 191, No. 4, January
Publisher: Poetry, Chicago
From: Poetry, Vol. 191, No. 4, January
Publisher: Poetry, Chicago
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THE LATE WORM
The wormswhich had been
thick are thin
upon the ground
now that it\'s gotten
later. They stick
against the path,
their pink chapped
and their inching
labored. It’s a
matter of moisture
isn’t it? Time, a
measure of wet,
shrinking, the
drier you get.
From: Poetry, Vol. 191, No. 4, January
THE LATE WORM
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