LIFTING THE ROCKS
The conditions in the field were paramount to success,
we lifted anything we could just to look underneath.
Paranormal exultation if we found a relic : a code key,
a transponder wire, anything from where they'd crashed.
Nameplates attesting to another language, jeez, no, another
tongue entirely. And what then if they didn't have any?
Do you need a tongue to talk? Well, I guess, here. But
they're from somewhere else. Who knows, what colors
they see and how their visions penetrates anything?
Who knows what they need or want? All we could do
is look for clues. Something had landed here, that was
as obvious as the sand that had fused. We were walking
on another kind of glass. Four figures, under the
powers of the fury, the flames that had singed
everything else, had not singed them at all.