In 1984, I assimilated this southern drawl and slow sly wit.
Whilst i felt so foreign, at first, and had to sit in the woods alone
and meditate, I met this one gopher tortoise one day. He slowly startled me when he stuck his long neck out and offered me a bite of a gopher apple.
It tasted like the bubble gum I used to get with Detroit Tiger baseball cards in. We slowly became best friends. I met his convex mate and others with his first name he generously shared his burrow with.
His home was home to crickets frogs and snakes, he asked me to join them.

I was too big, of head or ego, I really don't know, why I did not join him.
I still wander the woods where frequent fires have burned, and find on sand hills, among the creamy white flowers  
and ***** stems,
the gopher apples. And plant them in memory of my friend, so slow and wise.
I see him time to time,
but find him rare and rarer.