There moved, against the verdant glade
On a lovely, summer\'s day
A shape, to see, too far away
Immersed in high grass, cast with shade
And, slowly, forwards walking
I hold a hand before my face
To ward away the insect life
And shield from softer, evening rays
And catch a glimpse, If I may
Of what lurks beneath the glade
That stalks me in the afternoon
And, with nightfall, hides its face
Always waiting, there for me
In the forest, by the lake
Watching, silent, from afar
In a quiet, hidden place
Though, I know it cannot stay
And I shall someday return
Finding that It has gone awhile
To disappear without a trace
And I shall walk there, even still
Looking amidst the fallen leaves
The only sound cicada song
And the sighing of the trees