Poetry by Stephanie Buesinger
The turtle’s shell is plastic, his insides
spongy – we dug out the hard wires,
tossed out the batteries that made up his belly
left only the soft parts for you.
The first thing I bought from a TV ad,
his shell riddled with holes to project the night sky
you wanted only his squishy body, sweet face
even after I wash him, he smells like you.
They say – watch out
for alligators in shallow water
for poisonous frogs in deep grass, but you
always liked the roughness of shells.
Tonight, under the white moon, the mothers will crawl onto this sand to lay their eggs
Like me, sea turtles can hold their breath for a long time.
Stephanie Buesinger writes fiction and children’s literature and enjoys illustration and photography. With degrees from Wellesley College and the University of Texas at Austin, she has worked in corporate finance and economic consulting. Stephanie is the Blog Editor at Literary Mama. She lives in Florida with her husband, teenagers, and rescue pets.
