Little dinosaur,
child's stick figure with long stick-toes,
you are in the wrong landscape.
How did you come to this white stone floor?
The fat house-lizards
cling to walls beyond my reach,
but a human footstep would redraw
your curved, expectant body -
the sketch of a smile -
into scribble.
The door is open. Scuttle quickly.
Shelter in a clump of grass
hidden away from hunting eyes,
and snap at pterodactyl butterflies.
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