OVER

Come out of the darkness about depression this holiday.

OVER

On the perfect roof, near a perfect ledge,

A small terra firma with a narrow edge,

No temporizing with last-minute balance,

No handhold, no foothold, no anchor, no ballast.

And once committed, once into the air,

No hovering, no kiting, no waiting there.

The polygonal street and the shining dark cars

Attacked at meters per second squared.

Once over, soon over: a thing done just once:

Like fireworks and New Years’ bells, fast and intense,

Quite finite, soon finished, thought long, slow begun,

And forgotten by others like the old year now done.

Come out of the darkness about depression this holiday! "OVER'"

On the perfect roof, near a perfect ledge,

A small terra firma with a narrow edge,

No temporizing with last-minute balance,

No handhold, no foothold, no anchor, no ballast.
And once committed, once into the air,

No hovering, no kiting, no waiting there.

The polygonal street and the shining dark cars

Attacked at meters per second squared.

Once over, soon over: a thing done just once:

Like fireworks and New Years’ bells, fast and intense,

Quite finite, soon finished, thought long, slow begun,

And forgotten by others like the old year now done.

Shore

It will continue, he said,

even when the water breaks white,

even when the surface currents seem

to be going the wrong way.

The river, I tell him, is gray, and the ocean is for others.

I have crossed the river on stones and planks,

while others swam, inviting me in

and I dove just to please them, pretending

I could swim too.

My path is broken; the white caps are hard

there are too many gaps, always

I must find the connector: I use wire and wood

and rusty nails, these broken rafts, 

whatever it takes to cross.

I don’t know tides or currents,

have never understood how the river flowed;

perhaps it does not.

There is only the leap, and my heart in my mouth:

I can’t walk this hard water or swim,

and I will never see land.

I will be your dolphin, he says,

and you will not drown.

How can I explain that

I am not afraid of drowning:

I have drowned many times, come up,

gasping for air, and dead, many times:

 

What it is is that

I can’t swim

and the water is hard.

It will continue, he says

even when the water

seems to be going the wrong way.

Come out of the darkness about depression this holiday

Over

On the perfect roof, near a perfect ledge,
A small terra firma with a narrow edge,
No temporizing with last-minute balance,
No handhold, no foothold, no anchor, no ballast.
And once committed, once into the air,
No hovering, no kiting, no waiting there.
The polygonal street and the shining dark cars
Attacked at meters per second squared.
Once over, soon over: a thing done just once:
Like fireworks and New Years’ bells, fast and intense,
Quite finite, soon finished, thought long, slow begun,
And forgotten by others like the old year now done.