Thursday, May 28, 2009

A turtle walks.

A box turtle walks across the parking lot.
It is going slow, slower than a jack rabbit.
A car drives by, barely missing it,
I scoop it up and place it on my front

I hurry inside to tell my sister, who is making
a pot of macaroni and cheese on the stove.
She says I should have brought it inside;
I tell her it belongs outside, in the sunshine,
where the children run, jump, and play.

I wonder if it belongs to them.
I wonder if it belongs to nature.

My sister stirs the macaroni on the stove.
She says "Be right back" and goes outside to
find the turtle; it is not there anymore.
I wonder where it has gone.

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