The Turtle

A quick glance
On a lakeside shore
Reveals nothing but rock
Rock, and grass, and sand

But that rock there,
It’s moving
Moving slowly across the shore
Hidden by the wet sand

Sand, and a knob of a head
Juts out of the rock
With little knob legs
And a pitiful knob tail

Twigs crack in the sand
And it turns back into a rock
All of its knobby appendages
Hidden under its rock shell

Hidden, taking its time
Making sure it makes the right moves
Rock, and sand, and shell
Does it still have
A concept of time?