Tiny Turtle

Tiny Turtle

By Laura Brady DePace

The gentle touch

Of the early Spring sun

Caresses the back

Of the basking turtle.

He is tiny -

Three inches -

No more.

He lifts his head

To the sun,

Neck stretched upward,

Eyes closed,

Reveling in the warmth

Of the sun’s rays.

The log he basks upon

Is a raft,

Adrift in the shallow bay.

The turtle-raft

Floats back and forth,

Reaching out

To join the river’s current;

Then retreating

To the calm,

Still waters of the bay.

Its passenger,

Oblivious,

Takes a ride

Back and forth,

Back and forth.

He cares only

For the sun;

Feeling its warmth

On his shell

On his head

On his outstretched neck

On his tiny tail.

The Spring sun

Warms his tiny body,

Waking him from the torpor

Of the long winter.

Spring-warmed blood

Courses through his veins

To the beat of the season,

Starting the next chapter

Of his life

With the coming of Spring.