An Army Garbed Poem by moon batchelder

an army garbed in shining black,
six feet to every man.
there might have been one thousand marching
single file across the sand.

undaunted by the distances so vast,
the space between,
their underground encampment and the
place they pillaged daily grain.

each man, a burden on his back
that measured thrice his size.
no murmur in the ranks was heard,
and no excuse - no alibis.

i pondered why they toiled so hard,
endured such awesome strain..
she must be grand! this one they serve,
their subterranean queen.