Enter the woods,
earthy aroma,
rotting mushroom flesh,
smell of organic matter.
Swift cylindrical bodies
resemble model trains,
marching rhythmically
on small feet,
as if in a theater costume.
The planet's cleaners
since ancient times.
Busy myriapods wander with their families after a spring rain,
constantly cleaning up materials in decay.
While admiring such ecological determination, from my giant vantage point I try not to step on these tiny creatures as I pass by.
Underground Art & Literature - open access to culture 