Poem: Visitation

Visitation

There is a lizard
that comes to visit
me as I sit out
in the back
behind the house.

It rests, at times
between my legs,
almost on my foot.
It is small but
does not fear me.

It comes so often,
it must know me,
somehow, it must
know me.  I wonder,
is it you?  Can it be you?

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