Feb26by bwarren

The Turtle

Amidst the rain and fog
A turtle spins his shell
Hoping for sunny warmth
His neck down to his tail
Like a vinyl record
He spins around and round
On the threshold of the mud
Fiddling with the ground
With no idea what else to do
without making too much noise
Making his own hidden design
He’s proud, happy, and poised.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry