Annelida

rain slips down the ragged curtain of clouds,
patter-slaps on thick madrone leaves
and sprays out onto arid earth,
disappearing between pebbles of gray schist,
tan grains of sand, and brown loam,
Down the hair fine white roots of grass
Where maroon and brown annelida pucker and flex,

blind

and shift the soil aside,
not intending to drown
in this their kingdom
probe and slip against the muck,
up to the surface
to lie in thickets of switch blade grass,
and wonder…

What? What?