Poem #24 from: A Lizard Life

Back to A Lizard Life – Introduction

it could be the silver lines
of a snail
gliding across the contour
of the garden

a trail that can be followed
with the eyes

or the staling mess
of gravy meat
that hasn’t been wholly eaten
by the dog

a scent that kisses soul
through a trembling tongue

it could be the hurried need
to find a mate
that rises in the heat
of Summer

with an itch that can make a Rex
of a timid Saur

it could be a persistent idea
of the warm dark
that turns a skink around
to a different path

with a feeling that holds the power
of a search for home

perhaps it’s just
a kind of slow beating
from the deep down
that is a reptile’s heart

and a prevailing sense
of true belonging
that is enough to keep the lizard

© Frank Prem 2017

A Lizard Life Poem #25: the advanced hatchlings

2 thoughts on “spoor

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