[ for sound + silence click the animations ]
At first glance, from a speeding
Train, you might think they were real
Farmhands standing there frozen
On those sloping fields - but then,
When you resume your reading,
Re-run images reveal
Leg they`re stalked on; and the hand-
Less, flapping sleeves of their coats.
Warnings from black-feathered throats
Tell much of men: in control,
Even when miles from their land.
Coat on two crossed poles to scare
The life out of hungry crows:
The fact that there are none shows
That merely our shape must shout
How awesome we really are.
Are made in his own image -
What are we supposed to scare
Simply by our being here?)
Tailored trees of Cavalry
They Stand, in their mime of rage.
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