Drumming Gazes

Mobilizing mass
swift to crash
in the lonely hiss of dusk,

What comes of mice
to throw themselves in
swift mud?

To gaze with
open eyes
all
coming far to claim their homes,

Seeing true
what the Reserve has been
covering.

With calling songs,
the people raise a pen,
and set a glass;

Let us see what the
New Storm Exposes!