Let the eye scan
For a detail,
Black on white or
White on black,
The two cloak the shape,
To confuse,
To obscure,
To
Foil,
To escape.
Loud and showy stripes!
Perhaps Jekyll and
Hyde,
The Light and
The Dark,
What pair could be
More evident,
Rich and poor?
The figure of the
Zebra
Standing at Attention
With eyes riveted,
Implores the witness
To ignore what is obvious,
Without any effort the bands
Of black and white
Hypnotize my eyes and
My mind focuses
On the Texture,
Not so much the
Shape.
What I see startles a
Surprise,
Now the unseen has me
Alarmed,
What just happened?
The Beast inside
The unseen Zebra in full control
Stares back,
Chills my heart.
The scent of dry grass,
The burning of
Hot sun,
We both Glare and
Squint,
The Zebra disappears,
Hiding in
Plain sight.
My eyes,
My Brain,
Lose sight of
The creature,
As the Beast and I
Remain,
Engaged in an awkward
Embrace.
The
Creature’s focus as
Sharp as
My own,
My face, form, and
Movements are its
Only
Concern,
Pursued, sought, and
Stalked,
Here we are,
We’ve converged,
Each curious and
Disquieted,
Self and
Shadow,
Light and
Dark,
Black and
White,
The Zebra and
I.
G. M. Goodwin
28 July 2015
Playing Fair and Being Kind 