Rubber Rafts and Turtle-Catching Aunts

You lifted your squinted eyes from weedy patches

that crawled from the water like curling tentacles.

Squished into the corner, of the banana yellow boat

for one,

her foot rested inches from my nose.

Toes exposed and wiggly, knees knocked elbows, nets, and oars.

You found comfort hiding in the tangled maze of limbs,

while my hunched back squeezed a bubble

into the boat’s already-bloating butt.

“Hush child! They’ll hear you!

Look for the shells!”

Turtle shells, like yours, swirl green,

like segmented stained glass pentagon plates.

Tightened by the bun on the top of her head,

Aunt Denise’s magnifying eyes found critters

nobody could see.

Red-eared and wide-eyed,

quarter-sized you tumbled down

the hole-punched net.

.

Crawling over limbs with pinchy nails

Your baby beak and too-big head roamed

resting limbs and curved yellow walls.

Aunty D. shushed my tickled squeals as the turtle feet trekked over my toes,

and shunned you, brave enough to scale her leg.

She dropped us off on the soggy pier by the house.

I stood stiff and achy,

you wiggled between my fingers,

and she rowed away.

 Irritated and alone.