A Gown For Worms
“We move but take no pleasure in the air
Before we return to some dull soil’s rill,
With never a dream of the one green hill
Once gazed at from Piazza Belvedere.”
“But a worm might still discover the gown
Whose feathers reflect the blue wish for flight
“And silence that other kind of light
“That lay ahead, when you were all alone….
When night would creak open like a big black box.
What else do you think we worms could do
If we happened upon a glove or a shoe?”
“We’d be cautious, and dress under the rocks.”
“Cover’s blown: the glove and the arm are gone.”
“They can be sewn: first the bracelet, then the bone.”
– Pia Marrella Cisternino