March of the elephants

Muddied grey with an ominous stride
twos and threes, side by side
they walk in numbers, never alone
young and old, the quiet unknown
they walk with dignity, strength and pride
the unshakable presence of immovable stones

Across the plains, dead and dry
past distant laughter and monstrous cries
they walk with family, moving as one
tired and weak when days are done
they sleep with knowledge, old and wise
danger looming when night has come

Arriving worn to fading water
surviving hunger and predators slaughter
they walk in silence to mourn the dead
preparing for sadness of their minds it's said
they grieve with brothers, sons and daughters
the march of the elephants marches ahead