I plan to stockpile light
To dazzle The Black Dog
If or when he next skulks into my brain
Snarling darkness, marauding my thoughts,
Shredding my feelings, gnawing savagely at my energy.

I will forestall this beast
With a wattle of torrid hues
Woven from unspun wool -
Impervious to its venom.

My knitting will be chain mail
Mocking its might.

Then music, The 1812, maybe, will un-nerve it enough
So the sweetness of nocturnes can invade and colonize my darkness
And once more, the light is mine.

I will stare The Black Dog Down
Effort by tiny effort:
The pole-to-pole journey of feet from bed to floor,
The shower unwanted - but taken,
The table set - as if for a beloved friend - for myself,
The walk embarked on, although unwillingly...

All will collude to keep this four-legged hell at bay -
Day by brightening day.

Even Keel

Some words are lovely -
'Evening' is such a one...
After the tsunami sunburst of mania, or
After a winter of dayless nights...
Sooner or later the boat steadies...
There is an even-ing
To our troubled day
And eventually, we can, once more - if gingerly...
Put out to sea.