Bowerbird

Bowerbird

Hoping to be understood and beheld,
Yet I fear to be too unconcealed.
Like a bowerbird,
I strut and re-arrange
My props and costume.
I flaunt and pose.

Suddenly I freeze,
Too much revealed!
Camouflage is where it's at --
Don't see too deep,
Don't see too much!

Poetry seemed like
Such a therapeutic occupation.
Now I see:
More like putting on
(or taking off!)
A strip-tease.

Betsy McKenzie
June 27, 2007