Autumn
Rain pelts
down through
a gray chill sky:
the tiny bursts of each drop
crackle together
and hum, and drum.
On the walkway
worms are dying,
washed-out strands of earth
trapped and drowned
on treacherous brick.
A big one wriggles
and moves its head in
something like confusion.
I return it to the grass,
which glistens and shudders
like a shrunken hurricane;
the callous blows of fate.
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