forty-nine

turtle head

monkey brains

tricky eyes

itchy fingers

twiddling thumbs

weaving time

spinning golden threads

still waiting

for you to emerge

from your silken cocoon

anticipating

Madame Butterfly

expecting

only a mundane moth

turtle head

tucked beneath

that impenetrable shell

what do you do

in there all the time

is it so comfortable?

waiting so long

for life's little troubles

to pass you by

slowly, patiently

you make you way

carefully you stretch out your neck

curiosity overcoming self-interest

quick to duck

back inside

bidding your time

while others hurry along

you have years ahead

a long life to wait

to live inside

that empty shell