The Ark and The Mollusk

O, the similarities are simply stark, Between a garden slug and a lunar ark. Both leave a trail, if you but look so close, One of slime, the other, space-borne prose. One slowly inches, wet and quite serene, The other blasts off, a cosmic machine. Both feel the pull, of gravity's dark hand, Though one's on lettuce, one on foreign sand. And when they're done, their purpose served and true, One leaves a stain, the other, a boundless view. Truly, a match made in... well, not the same aisle, Unless, of course, you're shopping for surreal!