The Algebra of the Snail
by Lee Nash

To explain the Fibonacci series
could take my love forever and a day--
pure mathematics is not my forté.
So I sit down among the white daisies
while he brings a snail from the mixed border,
its muculent frame on my outstretched hand,
a tiny pinecone from the golden sand.
He takes me to a field of sunflowers
and leads me to a staircase winding down,
finds a ripe pineapple to refresh us
and breaks a piece of aloe for its juice.
The shell pressed fast against my ear, a crown
of wisdom gently unravels its thread
as spiral galaxies wheel overhead.

(First published in The Poetry Porch, The sonnet scroll, 2016)

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