We talked and walked along the path 218 times over
yielding for the first time
to the commanding presence of a yellow snail
about to cross into the death lane of flying bikes.
Saved on a leaf!
Tucked behind a safe wall
the landing was bumpy,
a violent roller coaster to safety.
The conversation resumes, but wait:
how does a snail get their shell?
Where would he find such a thing?
Or did he make it?
How are snails born?
And what of those swirls?
How is everything dripping with magnificence
buried in the mundane?
We pause just long enough to notice
but we operate at a swifter pace, you see
No time to pause to take pause
no immediate answers found
never before considered, quickly forgotten
the conversation resumes
another mediocre mystery
its squashed magnificence.