In rain I walk and feed.
My one foot sliding.
I move slowly.
Ghostlike.
Floating edges grazing the ground.
I feel so heavy.
So burdened by encapsulating shell.
I utilise mysterious ease.
Drawing back and recoiling.
From sharp stones.
From grass spears.
My body is pallid.
Lightly scaled.
With probing detectors.
Ever-Searching feelers.
I am cold as ice.
Waxed and rhythmic.
My blind scare-head.
Bulls-Head.
Four-Horned.
I press the earth.
Suck it hard.
My shell is glazed and shining.
High coils of precious beauty.
With curled lips of finest enamel.
Silky smooth.
My wake shines and glistens.
An opalescent ribbon.
I am blind and cannot see.
But I know.
Where I have been.