Slugs

I was finally leaving the woods

When I saw a slug

Waving at me

Quietly, softly, sweetly, then loudly 

In an odd tone, though I was one to enjoy such oddities 

Back then. I nearly 

Stood on it, the slug,

It putting itself right at my feet, but then it repeated

Its sweetness at me, as it seemed 

To know I enjoyed such oddities 

Back then. 

After all, I’d returned its wave! 

Only it was that 

That sent me back to the woods 

And my wild for a while as the slug 

Kept me talking and sharing, which was getting me

Lost again as I 

Did not notice the slug slowly getting 

Away from the woods, me 

More lost in its tangle of weeds that 

The slug was freed 

From the slug 

With a new voice, the voice not so sweet, the slug 

Leaving now with their wave 

At the end a bye this time, as they shouted 

Back to me 

In their wild 

Wood, ‘No no no no no! Are you

Sure? Because, you see, I am sure

I never did wave at you.’​