Page:Tortoises, DH Lawrence, 1921.djvu/14

 Rh To take your first solitary bite And move on your slow, solitary hunt. Your bright, dark little eye, Your eye of a dark disturbed night, Under its slow lid, tiny baby tortoise, So indomitable.

No one ever heard you complain.

You draw your head forward, slowly, from your little wimple And set forward, slow-dragging, on your four- pinned toes, Rowing slowly forward. Whither away, small bird?

Rather like a baby working its limbs, Except that you make slow, ageless progress And a baby makes none.

The touch of sun excites you, And the long ages, and the lingering chill Make you pause to yawn,

Rh