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

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