Discerning instinct pays attention
Alien
Out of Time
I see him
pale as white sugar
milky body suit,
fishbowl helmet
awkward down the ramp
wade into the beach sand
gesturing after
the children
the orbs in his suit
glowing,
bright
Hands extended
on long arms
touch these
fingertips
this is me
I am here.
Hankering,
I am here, see me
entreating with gestures
here,
play a while
Two arms, two hands,
a chalky face —
a heart
yearning
Children —
see me
In the late afternoon,
intent on the last
sunlit Sunday
freedom,
adroitly
the children
evaded and
avoided
cast wide circles
around
his overtures,
dodged his outreach
and ducked
nimbly
away.
Distressed,
downcast and
pining,
the orbs
extinguished.
His shoulders slumped,
his head swung low
his big feet
dragged
in deep
dejection.
His mouth
a sad
downward bow.
His glance
unmet,
his hands empty,
folded
his body in
upon
itself.
They did not
see
his keening.
I saw him,
pale as snow.
