May 30*

Slug season

in the sweet dawn smell
I stretch on rubber gloves
pour half a beer into a pail
and wander the terraces
of the lawn/garden

plopping slimy slugs
into a drunken death,
freeing their creeping souls
to an assuredly
higher reincarnation

*Copyright 2010 by Luther Allen. This poem appears in The View from Lummi Island.
. . . . .
slug photo

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