The Watchers

The hackles

A broken twig

Faint scent on the air

He knew


The signs there

Some spoor here

No longer alone

The watchers


Afraid of the light

He pitied them

Confined in darkness

Perhaps for ever


The righteous watchers

Convinced of cause

Unaware of effect

And Justified


He saw them different

As they are

Not how they think

Lurking, scared


So cunning, clever

So wise and cautious

Observing, waiting

Biding decades


It was aeons since

That last dawn seen

And aeons more

Before the next