Feeling Down In February Poem by James Smith

Down here, all around, over there, everywhere,
You must be aware don't be contrary don't be
Unwary, it's February, the grey, the unwanted. the
Endless, the bleak, where seconds are weeks.
Where trees absorb the sky's grey and sullenly
Reflect it, at this dead season's peak.
The muddied grass lies sodden bleeding out the rain
Now only the crows haunt the icey clay fields
Their harsh cries echoing across the
Endless dead acres and flooded drains.
Yes, we are submerged in February and
Again in fear of the mental drowning
That won't let us paddle to an edge.
Fearful of letting go the rail to spring
Of a plunge so deep that even the grey sky
Will appear as distant light enveloped in darkness.