Reincarnation #4

Brutish Turtle

I live on a busy road in the American south.
I walk up and down this road looking at trash.
Garbage is strewn across the ground,
Tree-roots are like garbage growing from stumps.
And garbage people accost me all day,
Trying to “save me” from tie-ins with car parts.
I bite them ferociously and hang on, not because
I think consistency is important,
But because I don’t have any reason to let go.
Soon the locals grow to despise me.
A boy with a rock smashes my shell,
And the sun begins to dry me into jerky.
I don’t know why a voice says
You did well.