across the sky they move, ominously silent
sacred rhythms moving collectively around
as they encircled the inhabitants of the ground
constantly flowing rivers upside down as if
their contents should simply fall out somehow
yet nothing is seen or felt or sensed by animal
flying tree to tree and without encumbrance;
muted are their sounds as they travel by
bunching together as if in some kind of parade
lights and greys and darker colors too but none
of which have adopted the color black as their
passage seems to be quite unrestrainable and
we find ourselves at the mercy of their forecast.
15 November 2020
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