Sunday, April 24, 2016

Thirty-Two Turtles

On the sun-baked back of a fallen tree,
leaning well into the lake,
thirty-two turtles along its length,
stretched out like bells in a carillon,
from wee-littlest to next-little to less-little
through maybe-medium,  on up to the grand, rotund
Turtle King.

All are facing the same way;  only seldom does any one budge.
And why should they?  They bask in Turtletude.

Contemplating all this,  sagely from the shore,
at last I beam at them  this thought-balloon:
“Carry on, gentlemen;  carry on.”

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