Before the Others Came

Before the others Came

I found a stick, reached out and
flung it off the road.
"Maybe I can save them."

The other's were coming, marching along,
the three of them and an old lady with a bird cage.
They were getting closer. I could hear
the sound of their voices
but, I didn't know what they were saying.

It drifted in the wind. I sat on a large rock
under an old oak tree, leaves fell, drifted
with the sounds. Many had passed before -
they played like ghosts in an old movie,
waiting on the sound. I listened so hard,
I wasn't sure if it was them I heard.

One of them was laughing. The road had a bend
that kept them out of sight.
They would be around the corner any time.
I could hear them - louder, and a little dog barked.
I could hear that very well.

One of the men was irritated at the old woman.
"Why did you bring that bird cage?"
"Because I want a little bird; I want a little bird that sings."
The man kicked the dog, it hit the rock - dead.
I climbed down, picked it up, held it back to life.
We waited together, the little dog and I..

They turned the corner, and we could see them.
The sun was bright, morning light.
It spotted the rock like a giraffe.
The little dog and I posed on the giraffe,
in morning light for a surreal painting.

The man wore a coat and held the boy by his hand,
tugging, shaking his arm to listen.
"Don't drag your feet boy, you've only one pair of shoes."
They were near now,
I scratched a face in the dirt with the stick.

They stopped - pointing,
"There's an eye." said the boy.
"No," said the old lady.
"That is a little bird, he's just learning to sing."

I tapped my pencil in my notebook.
"Did you hear that" the man said.
"Wasn't nothing" said the last man, and they passed.

I climbed down from the rock. The little dog followed.
We walked along together toward the sunset,
crossed the squiggly line,
where I'd tossed the snake away,
before the others came.