Whose snail is that? I think I know,
here in Amarillo.
Its owner is quite happy.
Full of joy, like a vivid rainbow.
I watch him laugh. I say hello.
Where’s Willy Now?
He gives his snail a shake,
and laughs until his belly aches.
The only other sound's the break,
of distant waves and birds, awake.
The snail is excited, strange and deep;
an interesting hypothesis.
But he has rendezvous to keep.
Despite freezing temperatures,
sweet dreams come to him.
He rises from his gentle bed,
like some extraterrestrial.
With simple thoughts in his head,
he eats jam and crumbs of bread.
Ready for another day.
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