Encroaching
SAD
It’s
not a physical thing
although
the list of physical ills would be as long
as
one of those so-called toxic chem-trails
no
my pain is located far from these
things
and related objects
the
world around me
just
reflects the chaos spinning off into eternity
with
its every leaf its every gust its every woman
old
and bent and trying to cross the street
I
cannot bear to feel the ache
of
buildings
mountains
hillsides look after themselves
as
do the more embattled scores of trees
and
the reactive mammals
skittish
as the birds
and
desperate as fishes
I
feel the weight of every tense volcano
and
gust that makes up every hurricane
a
bolt of lightning lights my spine
with
sparkling
and
the ocean drops my heart into the very deep
It’s
hardly physical that which deflates me
it’s
the feeling of the grass fighting
with
the weeds
I
feel the force that moves each loping Elm tree
I
feel the gestation of Sycamore seeds
before
they spin
which
makes my heart feel dizzy
as
the long stare of the sun in Autumn burns
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