They all showed up one day,

much to the surprise of most,
the grim satisfaction of some,
and the alarm of more than a few.
They came from fields stripped bare
by starving rats, gold mines in frozen wastes,
remote woods hiding their night secrets,
and the depths of Middle Passage voyages
gone wrong.
Gaunt entities arose from the Galway
countryside and from layers of ash
in the Sola River.
They crowded the Forbidden City
and inundated Sichuan province.
They emerged from museum displays of
skulls and shoes and teeth. They
overwhelmed the Valley of Mexico,
emerged from
Biafran streams and Rwandan ditches,
and even appeared in tourist locales in Montana.
The older ones, inspired, rose from
Assyrian walls and Antiochus's frying pans,
from lines of crosses, and Danish bogs.
Rows and ranks appeared, standing on
each other's shoulders in some places,
until they formed vaporous skyscrapers.
Those looking at them wondered who they were
and what they wanted, although some suspected
(and a few dreaded).
Then the quick ones turned back to their
affairs,
and the transparent ranks,
slowly dissipated,
both silent
and unquiet.