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April 1, 2012 vol 8 no 1

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Terri L. French


This family vacation does not include my own children. My husband and I, my step-son, step-daughter, and their two friends share a two bedroom condo on the beach. On the third morning I stroll the shoreline alone. While scanning the sand for seashells something rolls atop my foot. It is a loggerhead hatchling washed ashore. The turtle quickly scrambles off my foot and heads back toward the surf only to get pushed back again . . . and again. It's bound for the great unknown and seems fearlessly undeterred. Something in me swells. I pick up the tiny creature and hurl it past the waves then turn and head back.

caretta caretta
into this sea
I pray you home