Three Lone Adventurers

 

Three lone adventurers

The clouds descend
Thick and opaque like molasses
Curling themselves in oppressive wisps and piles.
They encompass the mountains,
Blockading any warmth or light,
And pelt down heavy fecund raindrops
That will last for weeks.
They barricade the familiar in their dwellings
Preventing the customary collection in local haunts.
Instead they coil up in nests of heavy down duvets
To chase the ebbing of elusive sleep,
The fruition of brilliant blue bird days.
What brave and hearty souls,
These three alone,
Will unfurl from their lair of warmth
To brave the fury of the temperamental skies.