I know

A busy woodlouse wends his way
across the tiles of black and gray.
A vast expanse beneath the sky
I wonder where he goes and why.

A tiny creature harming none
he journeys on his way alone in danger
from the birds that fly.
I wonder where he goes and why.

Wood lice have no defence at all
except to curl up into a ball.
He hurries on determinedly.
I wonder where he goes and why.

Now he will travel on no more
he has become the breakfast for
a hungry blackbird passing by.
I know where he’s gone and why.

Revised sep 07

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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