Other (Poetry)

06th August 2017
They pass me by, those passers-by
and hardly ever catch my eye
brush my shoulder but don’t see
the shape inside the shape of me

I could be monster, man or god
some equine beast discreetly shod
have genes of fish or blood of fowl
half lizard or part eagle owl

No matter to the passerby
too busy or too blind of eye
to notice as he hurries past
I’m not the first nor yet the last

he’ll fail to offer a salute
along slow evolution’s route
no nod, no wink, not any sign
now intuition’s in decline

And thus it might come as a shock
should I reveal what I am not
appearance subtly mundane
look once — look twice
                                and think again