CROAK

In the distance I hear singing;
From where exactly, I can’t be sure.
I zip and zag from side to side—
Triangulation.
Finally I find them, huddled around the lake
In their fortress which lies on the edge,
Secure,
Sealed,
Sound.
A massive chorus is in session,
But I have made a mistake;
This concert was not for guests,
Rather solely for the singers’ edification.
Another blunder makes itself apparent:
This is no mere choir;
They are warriors,
And they are organized.
A cry goes up and the soldiers retreat
Into the castle,
Behind the walls.
The choir falls silent,
One by one,
Two by two;
Rapidly,
Suddenly.
A lone watchmen is left, calling out the news:
“The stranger stands,
He has not left.
Hold your ground, and we shall see what comes of him.”
I stand and wait,
I am watched, I know it.
Finally, I decide to move on,
Wandering out of the valley and into the setting sun.
The gates are opened;
The chorus continues.