poems

The Snail

©Andrés Díaz Marrero

My friend the snail,
Bronzed by the sun,
Stroll through the sand
And leaves a trail.

He has a good time,
Walking at slow pace.
Hauling on his shoulder
A hard coiled shell.

It's his pretty house!
A small and gleaming case,
Made of shining corals
And mother of pearl.


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