Quiet Company
- Roy Arthur
- Feb 28, 2018
- 1 min read
How lovely, the eyes
of a lizard, so keen and honest
Like those of this
common fence lizard,
the one who has just now
tilted his head at an angle,
so as better to behold me
He gazes, making some
appraisal of my character,
for what must be a long time
in the life of a lizard,
then he turns his body
toward the sun and sets back
to his original instructions
How strange and old it is,
this yearning in me to be
held long in the gaze of another,
to by gaze be judged worthy
of quiet company, of silently
sharing this old porch
in the afternoon light
How often are such
yearnings unmet,
simply by forgetting?
Forgetting, to give this world,
and all its creatures,
the modest effort
of attention
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