Winter heralds In a level of depression
That surpasses
The level of elation
I feel when spring arrives
I accept that poets and predictions
Cant stop the worlds afflictions
That have been there
Since the dawn of time
Still I look to strength
Between God and booze
Only to realize
They are empty methods too
So I sit here and write
In the half dark
Of the coming night
Wondering what to do
Fully Knowing
That Winter heralds in
My depression like a treacherous friend
The creative muse by which I write
Wanda, My brother has the same depression every winter season. It's so hard to work through each year. You put this very nicely. Sincerely, Mary
Hi Strunk, All you can do is keep writing really. 9 from me. All the best Tai
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love winter below zero my true home daily watching weather reports from Northway, Alaska so you're in a different realm but just as lovely and in the end the planet turns Spring will arrive just keep writing beautiful until the Robin sings