Lumbricus Rubellus,
or perhaps a finishing nail, 6d –
I can’t tell from here,
with these glasses –
old ‘scripts – old eyes –
shallowing focus.
But, it is there,
below the radiator,
and the radiator is pink.
It is there in dust – on pine
floorboards – unmoving –
shriveled in drought
in the first case – bent,
rusted and useless
in the latter.
Either way – it is death
below the radiator,
and whether a nail
or an earthworm,
I am loath to name it.
Image: Keith Misner on Unsplash
Sweet and Bitter Greens 
the thing you cannot see is so vividly described, i love the structure of your poem, it leads me right under the radiator.
Thank you, Gina. I appreciate the read and comment.
D
my pleasure Devon I assure you, I love different perspectives and this was a really refreshing read.
Thanks so much!
D
You nailed it! 😆 sorry couldn’t resist.
Seriously though a really wonderful poem that demands a few reads to keep uncovering the layers. Really well done and thank you for sharing it!
Thanks for the read and comment, Stephen. I sincerely appreciate it.
D
Of course. 🤓🙏🤓
Effective and haunting piece! I felt myself groveling around on the floor looking for something, then recoiling. Nicely done!
Thank you Tanya.
D
A few worlds meet in your work. Fascinating.
Thank you so much. That is certainly an encouraging remark.
D
Haunting and stunning. Penned beautifully with elegance. Absolutely divine.
Thank you so much, Lucy. i appreciate the reading and comment. They are so few and far between,
D