Tuesday, 17 July 2007

Running Baby Sea Turtles into the Surf - Bob Bradshaw

I'm down on my knees watching.
She is like a child digging
on a beach, flipping sand
into my face. Weeks later,
under a sky warped
by the shrieks of sea birds,
her baby turtles scramble
toward the surf.

Off shore
the sharks have gathered,
to gorge on them
as if they were floating dishes.
But before that happens
the sea birds are relentless,
plucking the baby turtles up.
I drop a turtle as I run it towards the water
and before I can snatch
it up, a frigate flies off
with it.
I'm like an armored truck's guard
trying to pick up
the scattered cash,
the truck turned over,
and the neighbors

Bob Bradshaw


Anonymous said...

I really like this poetry. And I see I am the first one to leave a comment? This is exactly what I was looking for, especially about baby turtles/hatchlings and stuff like that. The only thing I was dissapointed about is it didn't rhyme. I mean, I know poems don't have to rhyme. But I like them to rhyme, and it also makes me want to read on and see what rhymes with that word. It also makes it more interesting for me. So, please take that advice and work on some poems yourself that maybe have a few rhymes here and there, or maybe throughout the whole poem!

Anonymous said...

Thanks, Kristle. I appreciate your comments. Best, Bob