Ethereal Immigrants

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Two watchers — one spring green, one cobalt blue — 
float in the air above us — watching in their usual silence.
You never know what these beings are looking at or what they

are thinking, that is, if they think.  Nor do we have a way
of knowing where they came from or what they are doing
here.  They just watch everything.  They seem to have a sense

of morality — but that might be my projection.  They say
nothing; they experience what might be called "existence."
So anyhow, here they are... there are hundreds of them.
I keep feeling like they have a message. Something new.