For years my father
Dug up his buddy, tilling
His garden for spring.
Never using his Roto
But, shoveling so slowly.
Dad was afraid that
His garden friend, might be hurt
By roto-tilling.
Painfully Dad partook of,
His cautious task so slowly.
You see, for many
years, Dad’s buddy surprised him;
Greeting him the same.
In a shovel full of dirt,
His friend, a terrapin, lay.
Dad always looked...
Continue reading...