Here it comes

Here it comes

The dark cloud roiling

Filling the horizon with

Loneliness and fear and

Self-doubt.

It comes right on time

Clipping its ticket at it

Drives out the light

Pressing swirling dust into

Cracks, gaps, airholes.

Clothes fluttering before a

Deep still. Silence.

Stumbling bodies peering forward

None able to find another

In the wretched.

They say this too

Shall pass

Remembered only as a

Reddened stain on a

Snowfield distant.