Snow on Cedars

It is Monday morning.

There is snow lying on the cedars

outside the window.

The cat is sleeping

on the afghan-covered couch.

Dishes are stacked in the sink.

There is a basket of clean laundry

at the foot of the bed.

I will not pet the cat today.

I will not wash the dishes.

I will not fold the laundry.

The best that I can hope for

is to remember the snow on the cedars.

Numb

Numb from Percocet and Ativan,

I teeter to the kitchen, heat water

for tea, which I then forget, let steep

until it is a thick, bitter brew,

and stone-cold.

Depression

It is a weight that I carry

in a calabash pot on my head.

It seeps through my scalp, leaps soundlessly

between the synapses in my brain.

It creeps along the tunnel

of my spinal column, swims

in my very marrow.

It nibbles at me, at my fingertips and toes,

with small, sharp teeth.

If only I could keep it confined

to the calabash pot,

but it leaks out through cracks

too small for the world to see.

That Good Night

There are among us those

who would gladly go

gently into that good night,

and those would willingly go

even without tenderness.

There are those who

would leap into the dark,

and those who would not care

to die in the light,

and many who would willingly

go without a fight.

Praying My Own Private Rosary

I peel the bandage back,

see the neat row of stitches

stepping across my wrist

like the tracks of a bird

in the snow.

Gingerly I trace the threads,

touch the knots

like rosary beads,

only I don’t

know what to pray.

When Darkness Falls

When darkness falls they come,

slinking in after supper, sliding under beds

and pressing against the backs of closet doors.

They do not wait for the witching hour,

only for the shadows after sunset.

As I wash the dinner dishes I can see them

twining around the table legs, squatting in the pantry.

I can see them slither up the stairs as I go up

to give Jonathon his bath, and they wait

below his crib until he is safely tucked in.

They follow me to my room,

slip under the covers with me,

and worm their way into my dreams.