27 holes
The turtle got in again. I forgot and left the backyard gate open, the turtle came in and dug 27 little holes. She comes from the canal that runs alongside our house. She comes out at night, up the bank, across the driveway and feels her way along the fence in darkness, looking for an opening. Sometimes I find her in the morning still feeling her way, on the other side of the fence, searching. She is large and heavy, as big around as a grown tree.
There is never anything in the holes, they are just holes with little mounds of dirt beside them. Is she looking for something? Has she lost her dreams? Is she planting new ones? Is she looking for a place to lay her eggs? Everyone seems to have a different opinion. Of course everyone agrees that I should close the gate, but I forget.
I sometimes imagine what the holes feel and see, suddenly opened up and gazing into the starry night sky. What does the turtle say to them? What songs do the stars whisper at night to the new darkness uncovered? I am always filled with questions and I wonder… 27 new holes. Who are you?