Camouflage

By S. S. Hicks

 A frog sits,
Wishing to blend in,
To not be called upon,
To not stand out.

 But I saw you
Through webbed greenery;
A golden eye
Reflecting a shrouded sun.

 It took the shifting motion,
The ripple to allow the jump,
To see we are not meant to blend in,
But leap before stricken.

 Below the surface,
Into the rich, murky depths,
You discover at last
The others.