crossing the lawn

[fledgist]

dry grass thin stubble in late summer's heat

reflaring here and there to darker green

in mottled shade there's no one to be seen

a heavy silence rules upon the street

we crave completion seek the upward beat

of ravens' wings demand the vision keen

of tropic vultures we release our spleen

on hapless ears but then we must retreat

in each cool cave the music cannot fail

to guard against the horror of bright day

while keeping hearts in balance from the strain

of sensing that there's more to the true tale

as yet unheralded in what you say

but for the moment we must count the gain