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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=366751" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Tortoise In Keystone Heights</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=366751" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">When I knew, it was raining. <br>Winter in decline. I was tired. <br>You in your soaked shirt diffused <br>into the western sky bulging with clouds, <br>speeding cars a few feet away— <br>why would they not slow down? </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=366751" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Though afternoon, a slip of moon <br>busied itself with rising, <br>and it had to mean something. <br>If only the moon were not out. <br>You shoveled the crushed tortoise <br>and her eggs off the highway into the dirt. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=366751" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Those soft, white eggs. <br>This is how I love you: <br>drenched with Florida rain <br>and looking like hell, <br>Florida itself a hell, <br>the moonlit rain a rain of fire.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Deborah+Ager">Deborah Ager</a></strong></div>

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