Depression is like a marrow-less bone.
Depression is like being lost in the sewer,
stooped over just to fit.
I pick a direction and shamble,
and occasionally I'll find a manhole
too heavy to lift,
but I can stand there under it,
not making any progress,
but not hunched.
It's raining somewhere up there.
The water will rise.

And the light at the end of the tunnel
is on
the horizon.
I'll have trench foot by then,
but when I get there
it will be
The Moon herself.