When the shadow passed overhead, I despaired
Although it wasn’t as painful as I’d hoped
There was no fanfare to announce its arrival
Only a slow crawl toward emptiness as the fog grew thick
No warning sounded as the shades darkened
Passion fading to grey ink stains on a tattered membrane
Cracked shells of hatched memory scattered behind the curtain
This path I walk through mist bears traces of a past I knew
Memories of a person who looked a lot like me
Each on the far end of time
He looking forward, I looking back
And now I do not know if the darkness ever passed on
Or if I grew used to living beneath it

Photo found on Pexels, couldn’t find the original photographer’s name