torch beam signals
small craft cuddled by night
starts its descent earthward
landing, it stutters clonking to a halt
rain coated figures some coming some going
inhabit the gloom in hurried industry
far off bark freezes the movement
who's listening pauses then scurries on
sliding canopy lock clicks into place
a wave, a torch's blink, engine restarts
like a swallow she rises to the dark
flapping coats and luggage disappear
to 'prosper' a secret alliance with a silent land
all through the provinces and parishes
its people ignited by a word...liberte!