To a Tortoise

 

Slow, ancient, crawling forever over the paving stones,

Plated armour of ebony and honeyed amber,

Shines in the last rays of an Autumn sun.

Like a reptilian Nijinsky, you balance on claw points,

Oval head, wrinkled, parchment skin,

                                    older than Egyptian scrolls,

Drowsy in this weakening sunlight,

Methuselah, ready for the long sleep.

 

Sarah Das Gupta lives near Cambridge in the U.K; she is 80 years young, an ex-teacher of English in India, Tanzania and the U.K. She is learning to walk after an accident.