Little Snail

I imagined myself
As a snail
Patiently inching my way
Across the garden
My tell-tale trail glistening
Conspicuously behind me
The sweet sounds
Of morning birdsong
An ironic warning
Of the imminent danger
All around me
Grazing here at my peril
In the shade of the maple trees
Where hungry songbirds
Are perched ever watchful
Singing for their supper
Their seductive melodies
Just a clever ploy
To lure me
Out of hiding
Innocent enough looking
But still, skillful predators
Hoping to make a meal
Out of little me
Concealed apprehensively
In the safety of my armour
Its protection
Virtually impenetrable
Though inside my shell
I am naked, vulnerable
And trembling
Fairly certain that eventually
One of those hungry birds
Is bound to catch me
When my guard is down
Or I am distracted
Its surprise attack coming
In a quick second
When I least expect it
One of them finally winning
Our little game of Hide-and-Seek
And then devouring me
In one juicy bite
While I am ripe