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