"Boat Show"

A great turtle glides, making his way slowly out to sea.
Huge motor torn shell groans, arms and legs unhurriedly part the water.

Head like a toy rocket rises occasionally above the silk gray.
And eyes just as cool survey the horizon with addled interest.

Of course he should be afraid of the huge triangles of shark fins,
Circling in the distance. 

But he knows prehistoric things.

Somewhere under those hovering isosceles rainbows,
Quiver mad, massive, smooth skins, and old eyes that mirror his own.

He dives low where the real cool begins,
his only traces a thin fold
where the water
bows to his descent.