Poem: The Wrong Season

IMG_7951_resize

The Wrong Season

It is the wrong season for snow,
but the cold cuts your bones
and leaves your heart shivering.

That is the way of it,
and your job is to create heat,
to light fires where none live naturally.

About this poem.

About depression. A dark thing that never lightens unless I do the work.

And I do.

The picture was taken this past winter in the quarry across from my house.

Tom

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s