the hermit

it lives its life

wrapped in the

convoluted silk folds

of its mind

encapsulated by opaque bone

sometimes it pokes

an enquiring tongue

through its skull hole

to taste the world

and sharply recoils

at the bitter tang



a hermit creature

it permits none

other into

its hard shell

sometimes it extends

trembling fingers

to touch the

shifting sands

on which it stands

and sharply withdraws

at the stinging bite



it listens

well hidden

in its dark hole

to the song

of the waves

to the sound

of the wind

telling it stories

of a world

it never

knows