There Are Turtles Under There

A turtle’s winter torpor still astounds,
In part because I’ve studied not at all
The facts that herpetologists have found.
As much as I love birds, I know their calls
about as well as I remember math
from high school, or grad school’s Greek grammar rules.
I wonder much of constellation paths,
But last night’s stars were making me a fool.
And yet there moves in me this hope of More,
perhaps this most means Time, but also Will —
To buckle down, to dig in deep — to chores
Of learning, reading, making notes until
I get beneath the muck, beyond the grind,
and in the lake bed mud a turtle find.

You can listen to me read it here  https://on.soundcloud.com/QPoU5sRHGDr2laDQ5L