the snail

Imprimir

Blackboard drawing by teacher Beatriz Retz

poem by Ruth Salles

Snail comes slowly,
without having a leg, without having a foot.
But then how is it
who can walk?

'Cause I know what he's got
right under the house!
It's a wet sole,
that glides very well.

In the jelly that she releases,
the snail is swimming,
and after sunset
I spy all around:

I see a trail like a wake
silvering the dark floor.
Snail climbed the wall,
went to sleep there on the vine!

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