The Clam

Deep beneath the water,

hidden in the sand,

doing what he oughter,

lies a hard-shell clam.

He never says Good morning,

nor gathers with the gay.

He shuts up tight on warning

of footsteps down his way.

He just grows old and harder,

and deeper in his fears,

till he’s too tough for chowder,

and dies from added years.

Leslie T. Wells c. 1955