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Aliens Among Us
© Linnea Sinclair

art@shadowkeepzine.com

 

They are not viewed through human eyes.

Wide of jaw, long of tail they move

like fogwisps in the failing light.

Existences unconfirmed by sight

for those told not to see.

A heritage of blindness.

Ears dulled to sounds of feet

so unlike the human form.

They merge/emerge through indifferent crowds,

cold blood against the warm.

Human minds not taught existence

touch on suspicions

in the dark. Late night,

two moons have risen,

tall shadowed forms seem to dart

like weightless leaves in winterstorm

giving credence to whispered reports

that Others walk among us.

Natives claiming homeworld rights

to this ball of clay beneath and above,

the suns that give us life.

Some shall die.

Mere edicts cannot alter realities

though politicians try

to legislate what should be.

But I have seen through my eyes

that there are Others.

That we are few among the great

who roam the world, side by side,

with us.

Hand to talon,

now.

It's not too late.

[ end ]

 

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