To the Lizard on My Tree

Tell me truly, Satan skin
sneaking up my aging tree
What have you come to do this time?
What else is left to take from me?

I used to love your furtive moves
the feisty flicking of your tongue,
Watched, senseless, as you stripped my tree
and fouled my fruit (aah,
we were young!)

And even now you never fail
to eye my withering property
Cold-blooded creature, haul your tail!
what else is left to snatch
from me?