In a shiver of fear, a possum lies doggo as Juliet, Exuding the sour reek of gastric distress. Eventually, though, sensing less danger, It banks the smell and scurries off. A chameleon, magical as Rembrandt, Paints itself and disappears into its surroundings A squid whooshes away, under the cover of inky clouds. And humans garrison behind safe room walls Sure they can outsmart A bloodhound's senses And somehow stay safe. But the possum might go to his tricks too often, More confident, less careful. And maybe a squid's ink thins a bit, Too flimsy a veil to cover escape. Or a chameleon's palate of camo colors May lack some hues to blend in well. And surely a hound, that bays at our walls, Surrounding our safe room Will alert the one holding his leash That someone's in there. Better to hope a more rewarding prey Distracts our pursuers.