To The Lizard On My Tree
Tell me truly, Satan skin
crawling up my aging tree
what have you come to do this time?
what else is left to snatch from me?
I used to love your furtive moves
the feisty flicking of your tongue;
watched senseless as you stripped my tree
and fouled my fruit (aah,
we were young!)
Yet even now you never fail
to eye my withering property
cold-blooded creature haul your tail
what else is left to pluck
from me?
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