Turtles slip into the water
They have for millennia and will for many after
Rustling in the bushes, I listen harder
Gasp to see a carnivore dinosaur, a velociraptor

I halt in my place, try not to sneeze
The last thing I want is to warrant its attention
My scent blown downwind by the breeze
Not getting eaten is my latest intention

I do my best to shrink in my place
Then backtrack one step at a time
Willing my motion to not leave a trace
I retreat from the Cretaceous Period, praying like a mime

Shh, it’ll hear you

NaPoWriMo Day 21