I run in the rain
for the sense of the splatter.
I run in the rain
To remember,
To repeat.
A rock smashed in mud
at a second glance
is a dead turtle,
squashed.
Reservoir turtle to road kill.
Perfectly positioned as in life,
Walking, unaware of
impending death.
The Turtle’s shell shattered,
the protection worthless.
Consumed in an instant.
But still alive, even in a casket.
Dead?
No.
Turtles die.
They cannot be the same.
I moved the Turtle to the side of the road
And I kept running.
Georgia Ladd is a Boston-based poet, playwright, novelist and sometimes actor. She is a recent graduate from Boston University with a love of all things creative and a passion for big ideas.
Rebecca is 20 years old and lives in a little village in Germany. She started taking photos six years ago when her dad got a camera for his birthday. It was fascinating for her to see what different things he was able to capture — emotions, plants, animals — and she wanted to try it herself. The best part of photography for her is that she can express her feelings and tell stories through it, and she hopes that people feel something when they look at them. See more of her work on Flickr.