Status Updates From Lord Weary's Castle; The Mi...

I’m a depressive

'December's daylight hours have gone their round
Of sorrows with the sun into the sound,
And still the grandsires battle through the slush
To storm the landing biplanes with a rush-
Until their cash and somersaulting snare
Fear with its fingered stop-watch in mid-air.'

'Where are you? You were with me and are gone.
All the forgiven couples hurry on
To dinner and their nights, and none will stop
I run about in circles till I drop
Against a padlocked bulkhead in a yard
Where faces redden and the snow is hard.'

O Mother, I implore
Your scorched, blue thunderstorms of love to pour
Buckets of blessings on my burning head
Until I rise like Lazarus from the dead:
Lavabis nos et super nivem dealbabor.