People

We're a mask with no home,
Not quite ready to go.
We stay safe in the corners,
In the caves and snow.

In the campfire and chatter,
We stick to the shadows
Until one brazen loud soul
Sees this murder of crows.

And it's light, and there's heart.
There's humor with arc.
But it never quite touches
Those who lurk in the dark.

While time winds down,
And the people dissipate.
My council does convene
On our now present fate.