Watcher

All I could do is to keep watching and
Looking from the thick, dark shadows.
I could only follow as the huge sun rose
Or ascended that morning, but as I stand
There something felt different about that
Particular day. Maybe because the sky was
Bloodshot red like the scratches and claws
Left behind. The silence greeting the flat
And empty air because although I watch I
Cannot say anything at all to those around
Me. There is no amount of silence or sound
That can caution those without their one eye
On the sky or the burning world around them.
There is nothing to hang onto, but by the stem.