For Ezra and Arthur
And any other children who’d like to meet an iguana
In this land of swaying palms,
yellow ginger Thomas flowers,
monarchs, pelicans,
horses, roosters,
sea urchins, conches,
I ponder which animal I’d like to be,
if just for a day.
I think iguana under tree,
very close to beach and sea
peering at me regally.
My eyes are sharp.
I’ve one, two, three.
I run quite fast.
I swim carefree.
I self-protect
with teeth, with tail.
My scales, my armor,
they rarely fail.
But, a miracle,
if rear end, slashed,
I grow a new one
where it was gashed.
My diet, I veggies.
I eat leaves, fruits.
My serrated teeth
gnaw right through shoots.
I hatch from an egg,
become self-sufficient.
I have to survive.
No time for deficient.
Though my parents abandon
the eggs they create,
I learn over time
to communicate.
I flap my tail.
inflate the skin.
It’s called a dewlap,
under my chin.
I bob my head,
sometimes I sneeze.
When I seek a mate,
I show off, tease.
I love that my scales,
my shape, my face,
make children think:
dinosaur race.
Though I can fight
to guard my land,
I prefer solitude
in sun, in sand.
I am peaceful.
Free, unconfined.
I blend with terrain.
I’m solemn, kind.
If you’d like to meet me,
come near, do not stray.
I’ll show you my habitat,
my deep hideaway.
If we get along,
share sea grapes gourmet,
I’ll invite you, my friend,
tomorrow to play!
Lynn Benjamin
January 20, 2022
