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The Late Worm

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The worms
which had been
thick are thin
upon the ground
now that it's gotten
later. They stick
against the path,
their pink chapped
and their inching
labored. It's a
matter of moisture
isn't it? Time, a
measure of wet,
shrinking, the
drier you get.

Source: Poetry (January 2008)

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This poem originally appeared in the January 2008 issue of Poetry magazine

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The Late Worm

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