It is not far, not far at all beyond
the city limits where the road ends,
even the tire tracks peter out amidst
the wild-grown grass surrounded
by trees, invisible from buildings.
Just enough room to park, lay out
a blanket, pitch a tent.
Off to one edge, a ring. I thought
at first of mushrooms. But no—
of snails, their variegated shells
ablaze in the afternoon light.
I read to them awhile, until the sun
was low enough that it was time
to gather wood. Whether they
enjoyed it I’ve no idea.
A fire just long enough to warm
ramps, mushrooms, beans, a chunk
of bread torn to pieces, then to bed
and dreams of snails who aspire
to write their first poems.
Robert Beveridge (he/him) makes noise (xterminal.bandcamp.com) and writes poetry in Akron, OH. Recent/upcoming appearances in Blood and Bourbon, The Stratford Quarterly, and Stonecoast Review, among others.
Richard Luftig is a former professor of educational psychology and special education at Miami University in Ohio who now resides in California. He is a recipient of the Cincinnati Post-Corbett Foundation Award for Literature and a semi-finalist for the Emily Dickinson Society Award. His poems have appeared in numerous literary journals in the United States and internationally in Canada, Australia, Europe, and Asia. Two of his poems recently appeared 
Foxglove Journal 