A mother’s Aztec ruin lay in solace on the ground.
Scat scattered, mischievous miscreants, abound.
I foray about…under their suspicious eye.
I understand…I am not one of their kind.
My paranoia not withstanding…
‘…what is this…
scurrying about?’
Hidden in the open…
‘amber luminosity does not leave.’
I smile to myself and breathe.
Admiration to those
nestled in the leaves.
Curious eyes do not wish to be rude.
They have only come for the food.
