In the early morning the exodus begins.
The waves of earthworms from their homes evicted.
Falling prey to birds and rubber tyres.
Their fate sealed by the earth in which they live.
Betrayed, at least upended, they have no Noah to their cause.
They move en masse but separately,
towards a new beginning.
But it’s progress, not their own,
which has pushed them to this point.
As their habitat’s eroded their risks become significant.
On a soaked air morn from earth’s saturation
little creatures flee, to breathe,
but may never sleep again.