I don’t know how the weather is able
    to echo so precisely the state of the world
Gloomy
     morbid stillness
        nothingness of the horizon
           gray-washed field
A scrim hiding every detail of the riverscape

So goes our world
   war
   illness
         bickering
             battling
                pummeling
Have drawn a pall over everything

Civility
     hope
       erased

The world is disappearing
     Deconstructing
        Devolving 

There will be no ray of sunlight
Piercing the gloom this morning
The shroud is too heavy to lift.