Half an idea floated by
in a wispy strand of smoke.
But tangling into the wet shadows
of bright city lit grasses,
it crashed without a sound
into an innocent little snail
minding his own business.
On impact the notion crumbled
in a butterfly dust of sweet thoughts,
which the snail quickly swallowed
pleased as he was with the flavor of the night.
Now half an idea is gone
The best half
I can’t bring it back
Unless I eat the snail
….Pity I ran out of garlic.
Photo: http://www.flickr.com/photos/bayonnebirder/3904046700
I like the thought of half an idea. Very original
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Very whimsical for you, Emmy, but delightful nevertheless.
Eating him seems rather extreme, especially sans ail.
Can’t you just ask…
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Hey, that is what I planned to say.
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Precisely. Impossible sans ail, my dear!
A bit of whimsy about snails like september last year.
Asking a snail … now there’s an idea!
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The catchers of ideas… Perhaps that’s why they move so slowly?
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I’m not sure that’s what they do… For this one it was serendipity. I think they move so slowly because they carry too much baggage…;)
Something in September makes me think of snails apparently. I don’t know why.
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The turning of seasons, perhaps.
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I have no clue! Maybe, that but I am not convinced.
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