Anole

By John I. Blair

Almost every day
If I glance outside my window
Chances are I’ll see you
Poised atop the deck rail,

Whip tail curled along the wood,
Hind legs spread flat,
Front end half-raised
As if about to lunge.

You scan both ways at once
Then bob your head
To gain perspective in a world
Where 3D vision is unknown.

The stance looks oddly like a dance,
A solo strut upon a narrow stage
With an audience of none
And all the world.

I am abashed to think
How many eons you and yours
Have pranced this prance,
Many times the stretch since my kind

Shed our tails and learned to pray.

©2012 John I. Blair

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