You move so slowly, Until you see me on the path. Quickly, you scoot away to the edge, Stopping momentarily to listen to More of my approaching footsteps On the gravel. Then, you're off again, Scuttling into the dry forest Debris where you blend so perfectly. Still, if I bend down to look Under your chosen refuge pine, I see you. Still. Quiet. Waiting. Later in the day, You appear again. On the other side of the cabin, In the sun. Seeing me, you quickly move away. Faster than I'd ever imagine your Meandering species to travel. Our truck serves as your refuge now. Protecting you from me, but more likely The dog, watching intently. A few minutes later, We meet, There in the sun on the gravel again. I stay away for I see your mission. You start to dig with your back feet, A new hole, just so deep. Slow, steady digging unlike your Quick earlier movements to hide. Transporting dirt out to the sides, A spot chosen to lay your eggs. Three hours later you're on your way. Back to the lake, from whence you came. Beautiful painted turtle, I hope to see you again.
Today is Poetry Friday. Our host for the round up this week is Carol at Carol’s Corner. Be sure to stop by her page for some great reading and links to other poets. Thanks for hosting.