The Coming

I can hear it coming--at full speed, and
I am scared stiff. But a "cobarde," I am not.
Fact is, I am brave, like that young student activist
That joined thousands of his fellow nationalists
Braved bullets and waded through truncheons
And clubs of the Manila metrocom police...
Back in the late 60s.
(By the way, 'twas not for naught that
We sought justice and truth,
For valianty, we won the war we fought.)
Yes, I can hear it coming, and as it nears,
I hear my name...eerily in the whispering wind.
I can only cover my ears...trying to ignore it,
Or fool myself into believing...
It is not happening.
I can feel and smell it, like a flower in between
My arthritic fingers, and I don't like it. Prickly and
Mephitic, it is not white, yellow, red, nor pink.