A Box of Matches

This is where you live.
In the place between dark and light.
not wholly one or the other,
pulled by both, yearning towards light,
dragged into darkness,
a halfway man always in a battle
that is not yours.
No matter that you are a participant,
there is more than you in this battle
and you are a mere foot soldier
reporting to duty, armed with nothing more
than a box of matches.

About this poem

A poem about depression. About faith. About the battle.

The picture was taken at The Mount, Edith Wharton’s house in the Berkshires.

Tom