Silver Trail

It slid carefully 

from under the plant

and slowly down the pot

like a body sliding out of bed

in early morning

uncertain

of the way to the bathroom

in a haze of sleep.

It didn’t like the carpet

and made uneven progress

across its pile.

The cat looked at it uncertainly

stretched out a paw

then withdrew it

in doubt

as the slug waved its horns

this way and then that

uncertain too now,

thirsty and dry

in too deep

drowning

in wool

and dry

so dry

shrivelling up

out of its depth

leaving 

only its trail

of shining 

silver

behind.

https://chainmailpoetry.blogspot.com/2025/11/silver-trail.html