Plump Skink I Think

I was used to skinks
from the Sierra Nevada--
thin lizards, flashes
of liquid blue and black,
gone to brush in a blink.

So this gray-brown,
blue-tongued skink
I saw draped over
a zoo-keeper's hand
had me staring. Body
like an obese gila monster's.
Chubby back legs. Tiny
forward flailings were
only almost arms. Blue
Tongue had a mock-croc
top of the head, sincere
eyes, and--from an unseen
place of coiling, a long
lingual lariat of blue, a book-mark
in one of Evolution's
favorite volumes.

That tongue, it scares
off predators. Mr. BT
cracked that azure whip
a lot and spun its almost-
arms. Protested in
the zoo-keeper's soft hand.
To no avail. He became morose.
So did we. Empathy.
We moved on and the keeper
returned BT to small
heaven of privacy somewhere
on the grounds, somewhere
in the millions of skink years.


hans ostrom 2020

Lizard and Person

A lizard springs out of always and scurries
perpendicular to level across a hot face
of tan granite. Stops. Stares at a person
who stares back with perception larded
with knowledge, free association,
and mind's always frenzied business.

The lizard focuses, grins thinly, sprints
into a crack between boulders, and settles
into shadow to digest a fly. The person's
mind is beset by why.


hans ostrom 2018