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September 4, 2012

Like the First Morning (Spring Pace)

Frankie wakes.

Frankie wakes not because sun streams into his eyes.  No sound has roused him from his slumber.  Frankie wakes because he's had fourteen full sleeping hours to restore his beauty. It's just time to wake up.

He doesn't stir.  Eyes still closed, his first waking-world swirls through his nose.  He inhales nose-flavored air mixed with hay and a dash of tortoise poop.  The scent is not's familiar and comforting, like an old country horse barn, the warm scent of home.

Frankie is comfortable in his snugly place.  The warm cave temperature mixed with humidity soothes his scales just as water soothes a fish.

Frankie's legs are close to his shell like a hug, his head rests on a slightly extended front foot.  Frankie stretches the leg from under his chin in an quiet under-breath yawn and stretch.

His awareness grows as he feels his bigness in a warm, shadowy, moist and snug space:  it's everything that makes his cave Home Sweet Home.  

His eyes are still closed yet in his waking state pupils-under-cover sense light slipping in from the front cave entrance, defusing around the corner and into the spot Frankie rests.  The daylight gently knock-knock-knocks on Frankie's translucent pink eye lids.

Frankie lifts his head for a first full taste of the morning.  

Eyes open to the inviting light confirming to Frankie it's time for a bigger body stretch accompanied by a wide open mouth yawn.  Frankie's body yearns to move so he does a compact feet tucked under shuffle-about turning away from the corner and toward the cave opening. 

The busy sounds of the early bird streams into the front entrance enticing Frankie to boldly lift up and stomp resoundingly to the cave's entrance.

Frankie looks out from his threshold to see all that the day offers.

This morning has been the very best favorite part of Frankie's day.

Frankie hasn't even stepped outside yet.

It's gonna be an adventure!

Written for and dedicated to Spring Pace who died August 25, 2012.    Spring slipped off the tight shoes of a human life and returned to the universe sparking bits of star dust.


  1. Such great writing, it's like you've crawled inside Frankie's shell!
    Thanks for dedicating this to our friend Spring.