Iguana

Quicksilver, my pet lizard.

My pet iguana often basks in
brightest sunshine, protected
by a leathery coat.  Grotesque
by human standards, he will
seize a cricket at times, or
move about in slow sidle.
Appearing fierce, a living
spear on a small aquarium
log.  Maybe I can offer
Quicksilver as evolution’s 
missing link—that transitionary
talking point.  A gold eye looks
piercingly at me; his way, perhaps,
of offering friendship as much as
any lizard can.  I wonder, however,
if he can ever know the fear
some feel, (aversion too,) since
cold-blooded reptiles, to many,
are like the keen edge of a knife.
I carry no such creature prejudices, 
and think of him as life’s own right,
with prehistoric times coded
all throughout his countenance.
Quicksilver is one staid
mannequin lizard, posing
cool and unafraid.  I know
he is only being what he can be,
and with animal limits, who knows
for sure?  Yet transcending what is
known or not known, a friendly
bonding, species to species,
promotes, I think, a deep
appreciation for the
grandeur of life.


34 Lines
Writer’s Cramp
7-28-19