A Slug in my Kitchen
He lived under my fridge. I asked him why he was not in the garden. He said too cold outside.
But I told him this is summer. He nodded his head, and I am sure I saw him
shrug his shoulders. He said I used to live under the copper pot
and it was a long walk to my kitchen. He asked me if I minded.
I said no “as long as you don’t come out during the day”,
Not that I don’t like you, just that I might mistake you for a slug.
You know what people do to slugs. “Yes I know”, he said.
He asked me if I could drop him some slices of cucumber
every night so he did not have to venture off too far for food,
and, “please don’t cut them too thick”,”as I am not a mountain climber”,
I said, “what about some of those garden pellets I can get from homebase”,
He said nothing, but I am sure I saw him smile.
So one day when the sun came out, and the temperature soared, I put him out in the garden. Occasionally I would drop some lettuce near where I left him by the copper pot,
and I wondered if slugs were snails, who left their homes behind.