Norman

—Anonymous Photograph

WORKSHOP, WITH TORTOISE

—Claire J. Baker, Pinole, CA

We think it first a child's stool,
then a slowly moving rock...
A fellow poet offers, "Tortoises walk
in straight lines." On condo balcony
the leathery-footed creature
inches straight ahead.
We envision tracks over desert sand.
"How old?" we ask the hostess:
"30 years, has lived with us for 28."

We begin our critiques. Following some
inner map, the chelonian enters
the room, stops beside our couch,
withdraws its head, thrusts out,
stares at white wall—a slide show
of a kit fox, Joshua trees,
prickly pear cactus?

Gifted with a marvelous metabolism,
"Nelson" stays in the key of "slow."
To the query, "Don't tortoises live
about a century?"
"Yes, we should leave instructions
in our will—perhaps a codicil."

If critiques ever verge on "prickly,"
we'll turn to Nelson,
as mellow as a candle burning.

_____________________

—Medusa, with thanks to Claire Baker for Nelson and this meditation on our use of time. I wonder what Nelson thinks about Daylight Savings Time (did you set your clocks back?)…

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