More than a snail

The poem, Considering the Snail, is an example of syllabic verse at its best. Every line has seven syllables. When I read a poem written in what I call "pure" syllabic verse (every line has the same number of syllables), I wonder what the insertion of the same number of syllables into every line adds to the poem's effect.

Reading the poem, I couldn't detect a discernible rhythm. In fact, it reads like prose.

The poem gains its power from its imagery. I can see the snail moving along the wet earth, seeking whatever snail's seek. However, the poem lost some of its grip on me in its third stanza. There, Gunn changed the "person," inserting himself into the snail's path, disrupting my journey.

Considering the Snail
by
Thom Gunn

The snail pushes through a green
night, for the grass is heavy
with water and meets over
the bright path he makes, where rain
has darkened the earth's dark. He
moves in a wood of desire,

pale antlers barely stirring
as he hunts. I cannot tell
what power is at work, drenched there
with purpose, knowing nothing.
What is a snail's fury? All
I think is that if later

I parted the blades above
the tunnel and saw the thin
trail of broken white across
litter, I would never have
imagined the slow passion
to that deliberate progress.