The Worm

Dawn: – I sperm
on grass, ground.
Stem to stern
bound I’m found.

Vile erme worm
underground,
silent squirm
‘neath firm mound.

Slimy derm
rings me round,
while I turn
earth, - no sound.

But I churn
while men fiddle, -
‘tis the kern
of my riddle...

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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