Line on the ground

Up ahead they had stopped And gathered like geese in an open field. The white of their faces Dark hollowed eyes Like the moon breaking through heaving clouds. Far away in the hills There had been the lightning Then the thunder Then it moved on. There was a line on the ground Very faint, like chalk Ghostlike in the dusk where they stood. Not quite real as we approached Something from the past Tradition, law, faith. They said Who put it their Who did this What does it mean? They were praying on their knees In their rags in the cold. A line like that could be a knife Isn’t that what happens when they jump from a ledge? Are we allowed to step through Put the line behind us Would that be enough to make a future?