the rain today brought the snails out for their snail-paced play.
they left snotty trails on the concrete of the back porch.
my son squatted by the open back door,
cooing over the slow-dancing snails, telling me,
look, dad, they’ve all found their shells.
the big ones have found big shells,
and the little ones have found little shells.
they all found the shells that fit them just right.
at the edge of the porch, by the wet grass, he saw an empty shell.
he picked it up, looking around for the snail it must have belonged to.
(Copyright 2023 by Tetman Callis.)