Earthworms

This morning it rained for only about an hour.
Deep gray clouds rolled over the city,
Engulfing this quiet campus with light sprinkles of
Loss and rebirth,
Driving the meaningless earthworms from their
Warm sanctuaries within the dirt
To the cold and inevitable death sentence
Of the red brick pathways.

Now the skies are clear
Except for the puffy, white communities of moisture
Hovering in the distance
Behind the Ritchie Center,
Behind the highway, breathing with the hum of passing nobodies,
Behind the city, bustling with almost-weekend excitement.
And I sit here, huddled against the retaining wall of Sturm
Next to the pile of worms I kicked aside,
The poor, pathetic manifestations of life
That only hours ago were writhing in vulnerability,
Exiled from their protective womb in the earth
And greeted not with love, comfort and the promise of tomorrow,
But rather with a futile plea for life…
A plea to remain on a journey whose goal is
Nothing more than continued existence.
And I can’t help but think that
The only difference between us is their blessed ignorance
And my tortured awareness.
Their bliss and my pain.

Maybe…
It is time for me to leave.