Have you ever noticed,
That when it rains,
Or pours,
There are worms,
Upon the sidewalk,
Like small castaways,
From a shipwreck,
Slowly bobbing through the sea,
To their demise.
They search in vain,
For a tiny parcel,
Of dry land,
On which to dry,
Their soggy skins,
And then...
The sun comes out,
And bakes them,
And glues them to the ground,
Like gum to a shoe.
But did you ever wonder,
Just how it can be,
That when worm villages flood,
There are still some survivors?
And how can it be,
That the really big,
Juicy fat ones,
You find when digging,
Through your garden,
Have grown to be so huge?
It's always the poor little fellows,
That you find on the sidewalk.
Could it be that the others,
Simply ride out the storm,
Under my porch,
Or in my garage?
Darwin, would have said...
'Survival of the fittest',
Even, among worms.
I am so glad,
That I am not a worm!
Dee Daffodil
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/worms/
