In the Midst of Winter

I have not yet shared my poetry on here, but yesterday I edited a couple of poems that I started working on last year and thought I’d post one of them.

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2020 was an intense year, and this poem certainly speaks to that.

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The feels are hard. Sometimes the result of brain chemical imbalance, sometimes life, sometimes all the accumulation of shite that gets stuck on our shoes and we track through life, and there it is, the elephant in the room no one wants to talk about.

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But hey... I am doing good right now.

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Some days that feels like a miracle.

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Today I’m revelling in that grace. Here’s the piece...

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Not sure when my disposition got cloudy,

an on and off, SAD winter thing,

especially.

Maybe it washed ashore on a tsunami

of adolescent hormones Mom

said “cheer up” to,

(as if I could flip a switch) referred to the

tragedy of broken handles

of chamber pots*.

It was her language thing, unsympathetic

regardless of the tongue that she

chose to speak in.

The sadness was a fog too thick for my ex,

so I became a song lyric**

he moved on from.

He sings praises to his new love’s smile like the

miracle that it is. Despair

comes unbidden.

It is the extra guest I must lay a place

setting for in the midst of the

dinner party.

It lingers like a couch surfing relative

who tacitly ignores the looks

that plead “go, go...

go away”, that has overstayed their welcome.

Days that I wake to without this

visitation,

I sing to all that is good; I set down the

darkness of things. I’m enlivened,

lightness again.

Maybe it clears because I am sleep refreshed,

the air is fresh, or I have been

sun and light fed,

my state of grace reclaimed. For many grace is

just par for the course; me I must

re-earn, relearn

it when my disposition gets cloudy like

an on and off, SAD winter thing,

especially.

* letörött, mint a bili füle

** Incubus, Paper Shoes https://youtu.be/YqJkJpZvWpo