Me, me mates, and the moon

Sentinels crouching in single file.
All rank and file, atop the hill.

The command vantage on the road,
the town and the sea.

Separated by bracken and barbed wire
strung taut, five rows high.

Straining at the leash,
we look for common ground.

Me and me mates wander down the road.
The other mob stand atop the hill.
Both groups look down their noses.

The moon's our mate today.
She lurks low and luminous.

A sulky sky captivates.
The unsettled sea roars.
The wind howls.

The elements are indifferent to our passing.
That is the passing of me, me mates, and the mob.

I stop a moment
taste the salt on the breeze.

The other mob,
they sniff back at me.

The moon, well
she just watches on
unconcerned.