The skin is not thick; it’s thin,
But I don’t yet feel chagrin,
Some beauty is only skin deep,
‘Tho aesthetics oft’ takes a leap,
To show beauty’s novel spin.
An alien may not be a vertebrate,
Yet, able to feel beauty and relate,
The octopus has eight appendages,
In his liquid sea-living beverages,
And, feels emotion, some estimate.
We split apart in some lost time,
I ended up with a spine,
We both seem to have a brain,
A sense of harmony to maintain,
And, valued space where to recline.
Even with a unique character trait,
We are challenged to relate,
We developed differently o’er the ages,
With the wisdom of our sages,
And, met each other with a various gait.
Francis Conlon is a retired and recovering teacher. For the past 20 years, he has worked as a seasonal river ranger and boat inspector at Yampa River State Park in northwest Colorado. He has published in the local Valley Voice and in Westward Quarterly. He currently lives in Salt Lake City, Utah.