Snail's Poesis - Conceit Two Poem by Warren Falcon

for Leonard

'I still can take
the sky -- there lies my path.' - Ovid, Metamorphosis

'Match me the SiIver Reticence' - Match me the Solid Calm'
- Emily Dickinson


I am

much

still

with

the

snail

her

imagist

staggers

her eye-netted

catches

from her

roam-

house

(a house is a shell)

beside

a river (a river is a

trail)


so she, snail,

does slowly en-

snare, paces

an eye, dips in

dips out, she

is slipsilver',

not 'quick-',

an

intended

pale limpness

ignites she

her night trail,

her moon lace

faint tail-ish

iteration

which treds,

praised be,

catches eye

stars imagin-

ation, forms

countless

wonders or it,


the dimmed

trimmed sail

behind is

adaggieto-ed

lightning or,

having no fingers,

or perhaps her

appearing to be

a finger, indexed

or not, suggests,

lends, intends, hints

to be lightning

letharge'd in

appearance only


but now each,

every, all these

enjambed visages

do muddle tho

she is no puzzle

(or puddle for that

matter) , rather,


she is

distinct,

parted,

clear,

separate-sure

tho whorled

as frozen mo-

tion but

for her un-

accountable

inherent

translucence