Baby Turtle

Crossing my path
his little flippers were moving a mile a minute
and he barely cleared any space

I hesitated, then chose
chose to help him...
The sand he had been buried in still clung to his shell
and he felt like paper in my hand.

Drawing into his shell
he froze upon my palm
feeling so cool.

I nestled him in the grass beside the pond
Surely his intended destination
then I began to fret
was he supposed to grow stronger from the journey?
Did i rob him of his opportunity to overcome and persevere?
Would he be able to handle life
in the deep water?