Tortoiseshell morning

[justcloudy]

He considers the world
from a vantage point so low,
white tips don't peek over
the pine green, indigo
mountaintops.

Plodding around mounds
of haphazard objects
garishly bright and smooth,
he smells stinking fabrication,
blocking his
predetermined way.

Cracked riverbed’s terrain
reflects sunlit strength,
and lies dangerously exposed;
he trudges on, to shaded banks,
camouflaged safety.

Two rumblings approach…
lumbering giants perform
nimble, erratic movements
cast a shadow,
disturb his path.

Instinct’s reflex
encloses supple scales
inside a homey tank,
to wait out peril
in stillness.

A fleshy claw approaches
now air above and air below,
panicked kicks and twists
one thought: dodge to shelter.

Baked river once again
touches horny toes.
Giants hover, pause,
click, don’t attack.

Confused, he bolts,
bulldozing rocks and banks,
thoughts fearful,
pride aching.

Green enfolds,
giants depart.

The strategy worked.


Wrote this today... on spring break in the mountains and chanced upon a lovely tortoise. I'm not totally satisfied with it though, I think the images work but the rhythm and flow, no so much. A little help?