There was a line leading
with no one at the front. A shuffling
like a herd without dust and a
low rumbling attempting to
create order, though finding none.
A partial gray sky above, half
way between sun and rain, fed on
the listless appetite below.
Children playing in a nearby field
disregarded the lines, the clouds and
the possibility of rain. They ran about
as if being chased, casting into sullen
air laughter unbridled. They were
the light from the ground up,
the witness of what is good, regardless.
Roger Singer 