Like A Tortoise

By John I. Blair

I am at home
Wherever I land,
Here, within my shell,
Like a tortoise
Except for thinner skin
And warmer blood.

Sometimes I retract my head,
Wishing the vicious world
Would not bother me
And let me lumber
From one hushed bower
To another.

But I know
If I’m so imprudent
As too much to go
Against the flow,
Also like a tortoise
I may get smushed.

©2003 John I. Blair