Like a Turtle to the See

like a turtle to the see
I march a sleepless circle
why do I think...a swirl?
(colors on a turtle’s back) Is that right?
or is it mostly muscle tension
and dogs barking like metronomes
in the deep-as-a-well night?
and an old wooden forgotten
carved in school-desk
that hundreds of kids learned in
which some fellow built with all his soul
until finally he only built them in his mind
he dies, leaving behind pieces of family
and an old pipe (he used to smoke)
that on spring-cleaning Sunday
(of a following year)
ends up in a garbage can
next to an arbitrary banana peel
and a half-eaten apple
(colors on a turtle’s back)
Why do I think...a swirl?
maybe I should count a few sheep
turning over and over and over
until sleep decides
it has enough room in the car...
somewhere in my mind, I wave
as I try to reason why I didn’t get in
but stand there on the curb waving
the sound of a car