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My Life in Oslo

The Belgian's view of life in Norway

Turtle Syndrome

The Turtle Syndrome

The old turtle on its tracks, long stopped moving,
when you were baptized, by footprints on the moon.
Pisces was eclipsed, but for the good ship Aquarius,
you developed a life-long passion, until that day,
that sunny morning, when an early bird carried
your soul towards the turtle in the silver moon.

At high noon, in the golden square, we talked,
of rabbits, lizards basking in the Spanish sun,
or running, hiding from the gliding storks.
Later in the day, when the sun was low,
I caught you gazing from the couch across
to the turtle, terracotta, sitting on its shelf.
I thought its pale-blue halo, might carry
in your head, a plate of outer worlds and orbs,
as promised by another man, but no, turning
you smiled and gently asked if I ever missed
- the turtle in the moon -

February 2009

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Comments

solid copper 14. February 2009, 14:19

So delicate, so difficult. awww

kerry 16. February 2009, 18:59

A lovely poem :smile:

mallory gerber 18. February 2009, 00:50


I like the image of the turtle in the silver moon.
Your poem inspires me to try sketching this turtle some time.
:smile:

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