What Brings Him To The Top Poem by RIC BASTASA

it is not his innate speed
for in truth he
has none, he traces his genealogy
to the turtles
those green ones the slowest of
the species
it is not his intelligence for there
is nothing unusual about
the shape and weight of his
cerebellum
there is nothing exceptionally
artistic in his habits
all old dog's tricks nothing much
about the brightness of the colors
of his choice
it is just the consistency
the everyday life he spends
without much highlights
each step well accounted
each sigh well heard
and then he reaches at
the top of the hill
above the cliffs
he rests and savors all
the wonders
within and
beyond.