you feel
as if turtles
are
heavy thinkers.
spending so much
time
alone in their
shells.
their slow plodding
seems to indicate
deep thought.
to hurry
is to be a fool,
for the most
part.
maybe they have
books
in there, beneath
their patterned
hoods,
a little light
above
their bed
with which to
read emerson
and Thoreau.
peruse the novels
of bellow
and updike.
they look old and
wise, even
when born,
you hope they
are. it would
make you happy.
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