A chameleon on a wall
Has a simple task. It’s
DNA is hard wired to
The bricky mask.
For us, also, it’s a small
Thing, not much to ask. It’s
A common trick, this donning
Of the skinful brick.
Skilful,
Lizard-like,
In the art of conning.
Perhaps the chameleon feels
As we do, the predator’s eye,
Drawing its collar up, it’s
Shawl about, it’s glasses
And wig on; strutting,
As it passes, the knowing
Passerby.