At the Station, Going Nowhere

At the station, going nowhere,
shoes neatly tied as if ready to run,
they are thrown off-balance by the approach of change.
Unprepared, unaware that they are the vanguard
of a new order, sensing the first rustle
of an icy wind to come, pregnant
with new beginnings.

Darkness would be the better companion,
familiar and comprehensible.
This strange new light promises to
illuminate what is yet unseen,
obliterating the comfort of old ways.
Sunglasses offer their only protection, lest
the terror in their eyes give them away.