Today is gray.

Smoky gray, dusty gray.

Not stormy gray, but blue gray.

I see the chiricauhaus, dark blue grey

Against a faded blue gray sky.

Even my soul feels gray.

Irises look

A bit ragged and

Lilacs frayed, a bit wilted.

The red in the flag seems faded.

The Pampas grass is black hearted,

Even the weeds are puny.

The edge of depression.


Well, that finch

Over in the peach tree

Is not depressed.

He insists

He has found something

Worth screaming about……..

Pesky, screechy, little pest.

How can I enjoy my

Depression with

Him around.