April showers
bring May
flowers,
and I always
remember to
tiptoe
in spring.
curtains of
rain
drain nearby
grassed patches
from which the
worms
exile,
slithering
naked bodies
onto wet concrete.
I sidestep
their curved
S's
as I slink across
the sidewalk
and think
about the
thousands
of nude tubes
who've died
for a new
season
I count
the few
I can save
with this
springtime
ballet
and hope
they know
this dance is
for them.
