so I brought my writer wife
(prominently pregnant)
to the hospital
and on her bed, she screamed:
"weren't" "hasn't" "couldn't" "shan't"
"aint" "hadn't" "you're" "isn't"
"aren't" "didn't" "wasn't"
"who's?" "what's?" "he's" "she's"

The doctors were confounded
and they turned to me and they said:
"What the hell is she doing?"

And I replied with double speed
and a violent sense of urgency:
*"Don't you know?
She's having contractions -
she's a writer"

And still I dream of stepping back into yesterday
Where time flowed so freely golden with serenity
We would sit in pine scented grove and sip lemonade
Our talk tranquil as sun dappled creek murmuring in quiet wood
Never arguing or complaining but flooded with blissful reverie
A time bygone and peaceful, learning to know each other again
Listening to the background symphony of cicadas and katydids
Poignantly nostalgic with yearnings of bygone days
Watching velvety dusk deepen into shades of whispering night
Relishing each breeze laden with moss and murmuring pine
Anticipating the dawn awakened by drowsy robins and wood thrush
Skies east to west stained with strawberry hues and dreams renewed
And still I shall dream on

**~Hilda~

She was beautiful,
But not in the beautiful ways you like to think so
She did not have hair that dripped gold
Her eyes were not the colours of the cold sea
But her smile was crooked and bent
Her lips were chapped and thin
She did not have a gentle laugh
Nor did she speak humble thoughts
But she was beautiful
In the way the shore kisses my feet
In the way the moon hides itself in the curtain of darkness
She was beautiful
In the way wind dances with hair
In the way shy lovers hold hands
She was beautiful in the way of morning air
And black coffee
And the love poems that live in each broken heart
Spilling red oil into blue lungs,
Suffocating happiness right out of its shell
And she was beautiful
Because she refused to taste sadness
Even though it was the only thing she had left to eat.

I am not depressed.
I can still smile at pretty things
And laugh when jokes are funny,
I can still talk to people
And enjoy nice days.

But when I go inside,
When I'm all alone,
There is something broken.
And I fall into a sadness so sweet
That it engulfs me.
I look in the mirror
But I don't like what I see.
And the tears always fall
When I'm falling asleep,
Because I miss something
That doesn't exist.

But I am not depressed,
I've just been sad for a while.
Although I can still find the light
I can still smile.