Chameleons
Chameleons
Life’s only consistency is change
for “nature abhors a vacuum”.
Time, inexorably tinges each moment,
colors it in fading yellows.
Memory’s dog-eared pages,
entwined with nostalgia’s neediness,
produce an altered state,
an hereditary fraud.
We are, at best, evolved chameleons
shifting colors lest the truth hold sway,
parsing words to spare the victim
the gravity of the crime.
Muted voices slinking silently
along the edge of rage,
tongues flicking in feigned ferocity,
mumbled mantras blinded eyes.
Night falls behind closed eyelids,
heads buried in the sand,
sentinels of tattered futures
cursed by nature - colorblind.
John G. Lawless
8/4/2016
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