Tuesday, November 22, 2011

 "the Chameleon" a page from my sketchbook 11x14 drawing pastels

You do not see that which blend into all that surrounds
Sounds, color, the children at play …. the chameleon
Flitting through life, sounds of your feet on porceline
A steady clack of heeled shoes
Inaudible chat; hand to ear
silken hair hides the phone
your eyes are blank, lifeless,
like a doll
There's purpose in your walk,
your stride
As light brown and patterns flow to your movement
All paths lead to the devil
yet you pass unaware without a care
You do not see me as I decide if you want me
If I were even in your league,
If you could see my worth
The sun beats on the cold,
makes little headway
Still I stay to the shadows
And the sound of your journey grows faint,
Then is gone......
As so I,
 my existence
in your passing.