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