POEM - These Are Not Good Days For Earthworms

These are not good days for earthworms,
The last of subsistence farmers
Who move coffee-colored clods
Once used by God
To fashion man
Into his own image -
The holes, they fill up
When the rains drop down –
The worms, they run
Above the ground -
As fast as worms can
Where birds will spy them –
And fishermen eye them.

The water comes in
The water goes out
In through the worm hole
And out like a spout.

These are not good days for earthworms
And those who work the land.

M C Biegner
10/15/05