FREE VERSE Poem: Spooning, by Susan Rump Abir

When I return to the cabin
from picking black berries
barefoot along
the grassy path,
two orange slugs
circle at the foot
of the door frame.
They trail smooth lines
on the rock steps
to the door.
One slug nibbles
on the tail
of the other.
The invitation sticks:
as this migration
dance moves up
the door frame:
these orange partners
lower themselves
dangling by a
single silken thread.
I watch
their twirling dance;
inner phalluses —
emerge & extrude,
the unusually bright
blue skirts —
glowing as they
spoon
joining together
in a flowering
conception.
Then separate;
To fall to the ground
for finding
a hidden space
in the grass
to lay their eggs.

Author: poetryfest

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