My Snail Poem by James McLain

You talk, it glides
You walk, it rides.
You speak, as if you know it. Will never die.
You were my very first, a snail, formed from the first.
You are the egg, I tarry.
You are lost among, my many.
You look like all the others, when you come in to play.
You and your mask, it stays the same, you watch from
the stalk of heaven, one with two eyes.
You knew I watched from the many, as you slipped away
to join the few.
You are my snail, in you rests my desinty.
You are not my death.
You are all her beginings.
You always knew.
You, knew, it.
You, it.