And as the worm it twists and turns

I throw myself upon the ferns

And fall upon the growing soil

Within my limbs the earth does toil

I glance back up at the trees

That twist and fell between my

Knees

I curl and hide myself from

Bees

That fly and sting upon my skin

Always grasping and getting in

The blood it flows upon the soil

The smallest touch to toil and

Broil

And as the worm it twists and turns

I throw myself upon the ferns….