Glances

At first glance,

They were just shapes.

Gradients of blackness

Clustered into a figure-

Each, one peculiar entity

That had to be analyzed on its own.

At second glance,

The bodies linked arms in groups

Of two or three

And stared back up at me,

Perplexed and confused,

Both of us.

At third glance,

The landscape seemed to widen

And grasses and grains flowing

With the whisper of the wind

That the figures blew from their lips

And the arms stretching outwards

To catch dots and marks.

At fourth glance,

It was sensible language.