Inside the moon is nest of chameleon,
In recluse I watch their puffed necks,
As they scuttle by under camouflage,
How come the moon shifts shape?
Its not because of me, it because of them,
Silent gaze is your best retort,
For poems are never stored to yon moon,
Only shared in utter desperation,
When words are all we got but nought,
For light or shadowy cloud or halo.
SHAPE SHIFTING© gillena cox 2017
Micro Poetry ~ Uncomplicated Things
Prompted by Kerry O'Connor
✿ܓEnjoy The Music