Slugs In Love: A Sonnet (kind-of)
As night descends through cedar trees,
Small creatures, yellow-spotted cows,
Drag boneless forms with gentle ease
And mark their paths along the boughs.
Across the rain-soaked, mossy ground
Their bodies trace two separate trails,
Their slimy love-song winding round,
The fir and vines and ferns and vales.
One, sensing dampness in the air,
Creeps from beneath a rotting log,
And finds the other waiting there,
His gleaming bride dressed up in fog.
Their tendrils softly intertwine,
Two slugs, in love, beneath a pine.
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Posted Feb 16, 2026, 5:07 AM UTC
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