I’ll take your hand
and we’ll walk to the pond.
Careful where you step!
A baby turtle, no bigger than a quarter,
is lumbering toward the pond, too.
he’ll slip into the water
to forage for algae
and insects.
When we arrive,
we’ll sit on the bank
keeping our eyes peeled.
Maybe he’ll climb onto a log
to bask in the warm sun
after his meal.
Or maybe a heron will alight
on the pond’s far edge,
where the brook flows in.
You’ll grow restless
as she tiptoes on her stick-like legs,
uncurling her slender neck,
thrusting her bill
into the murky water,
aiming for a fish.
Time for lunch? you wonder.
Time for lunch, I nod.
Hand in hand,
we’ll leave the pond.
Someday soon.
© 2020 Catherine Flynn (draft). All rights reserved.
For the back story of this poem, visit Reading to the Core.
Our final challenge from My Shouting, Shattered, Whispering Voice: A Guide to Writing Poetry & Speaking Your Truth by Patrice Vecchione (Seven Stories Press, 2020) is to write a poem about the future as you imagine it; peer into its unknown terrain, and see what you find. Click HERE for more details.
Post your poem on our April 2020 padlet. All contributions will be included in a wrap-up celebration on Friday, April 24th, and one lucky participant will win a copy of My Shouting, Shattered, Whispering Voice, courtesy of the publisher.
