It's Not the Weather

The black within arrives coincidentally to gloom
Without. The weather can't hurt healthy men,
Which means the rain-depleted snow, the clouds,
The water-darkened trees, depress only the ones
Who are depressed in cloudless skies and light,
And I am crushed by chemicals or history,
And not the seeming dreariness which filters
Through my eyes.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 181 times
Written on 2019-03-10 at 00:35

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