From a bare spot on the bank,
a few feet above the water of the pond,
where the afternoon sun warms the dark earth,
the remnants of several torn white shells.
Floating easily at the surface below,
after what must have been quite a tumble,
the tiniest turtle I have ever seen.
Barely born,
another old soul.
Let me look at you,
detain you,
for just one moment, marvel,
before I send you on your way.
shell just a bit larger than a dime