Astonished
The sky is hiding from the evil sun. You conjure Steinbeck's slow turtle In the rippling mirage. You're pouring gasoline Into the engine Which will never run. The turtle now could race you, Beat you, Leave you far behind, Astonished, Showering in searing sand. You see yourself Adrift from shore And frantic, Interweaving arms and legs To keep your face above the surface. Cut the cords around the gold Before it pulls you to the ocean floor. - 10/26/26