|
|||||||||||||||||
|
It's a landfill, heaps of trash Floor is littered with obstacles No clear path in sight. A no man's land A disaster waiting to happen. The search is on A reconnaissance mission to retrieve A beloved friend A small turtle Hiding somewhere in this room. Picking up the socks Tossing around the bags Lifting up the papers I fail to locate This small orange and brown creature. Where can he be? Did he escape Through back door Or unlocked front porch? I hear no small feet scratching linoleum. He likes crevices He loves to hide There, there is a bag Gently, gently I pick it up Reach inside to grab ... a hard shell! Agent Orange! I yell We could have thrown you away, This bag was to be trash. I stare into large red eyes. His only response ... he pees on my hand! © Leona Seufert Back to top Back to index page |
|||||||||||||||||
|
|||||||||||||||||