Working For Worms

Today I worked for worms and was

as lucky as a shithouse rat,

uncertain how Anon came up with that,

so tellingly apt for how lucky I was.

The jobs included: excavating compost,

applying that treasure to flowering bushes,

fixing cracks that had shown in the throne,

adding grass clippings and peat to the base

with fresh potting soil and, of course, the worms,

kings and queens at once of the outhouse.

I bought these beauties to put in my works,

paying top dollar for the large, deluxe package,

little red wrigglers, lively, they were

the composting champions

of vermiculture, an underpinning of horticulture.

Some were sunk in the greenhouse too.

All in all, it was a big day,

working until I was wet with sweat:

mowing, carrying, seeding, repairing,

watering it down for the sake of my worms,

getting straightened around on a bright summer day,

an idea almost too easy for Poetry:

Today I worked for worms.