Just off the highway
my son saved a painted turtle
with the earth on its back.
I was a good father.

I showed my children
the symmetry of snakes
and the quicksilver of fishes.
I put their wings in the sky
and left them beachcombing
on the shores of wonder.

When they held up a stone
it was the birth of creation.
When they examined shells
the book of nature sounded.

The world moves slowly,
one child after one father
towards the good.