I practice germaphobia, religiously
I don’t shake hands or hug.
I wear mask and gloves to the grocery
(much to the consternation of fellow shoppers)
yet, I bow to pick aluminum cans from gutters.
this week, it’s all about night crawlers.
the net says they migrate in rain
Fragile. scooting across pebble and pavement
like the rest of us.
But they have yet to learn the art of dodging pitfalls.
i can’t bear to see them in gutters among oilslick
no neck to lift to view a larger horizon.
they seem to be drowning in asphalt
these sacred beasts who bring life to soil.
i can relate
I’ve been there.
there is a yuck factor
as they wriggle back to life in my bare fingers
(cannot figure out how to do a proper worm rescue with gloves!)
not for long. I fling them to safety. Fast.
where they disappear rather quickly for an invertebrate.
they don’t seem to particularly care for grass blades.
No nod of thanks.
But I thought I heard the earth sigh
her sweet soughing.
but that’s an whole nuther
can or worms