even today

Depression's worst on sunny days,
when Spring is in the air.

More justified, more rational
when black clouds gather Winter storms
or Fridays fall alone,
with tissues, pie and bed.

On glory days, with spirits high,
the laughter of friends ringing in azure sky,
the gutting fall to darkened deeps,
emptiness,
harsh inner voices and
distress

seems more potent,
draining,
hopeless.

Even on this day
I cannot be content.