The Luck of the Match, the Pebble, and the Earthworm

Luck,

said the lit match,

is a steady hand

and a dark night

with no wind

blowing hard

to see by.

//

Luck,

said the pebble,

is to leap from fingers

and fly free

until cold glass

shatters with

applause.

//

Luck,

said the earthworm,

is the child’s palm

and bleeding heart

that rescues life

from the sure

roll of rubber.