Ode to a Snapping Turtle

Early on a summer morning
she crawls out of the forest to give birth.
On the shoulder of our gravel road she digs a hole
with her hind feet, and slowly drops her eggs.
She fills in the hole, pats it smooth, and retreats 
to her secret pool in the forest.
I observe this wonder, and am comforted to think
that she, and her daughters, and theirs,
will be doing this long after I am gone.