In creeping fog
of wintry night:
My eyes are clogged.
Billows of blight.
Dull cataracts
veil antique lamps,
gun cotton tracks,
pale wreaths of damp.
Yet though here loom
dun brooding hulks
of cold stone gloom
in misty sulk
the lamps shine forth
and shall not fail
’til dark fades north
and pulls the veil.
Dec 30, 2024
Dec 30, 2024 at 6:29 AM UTC
In creeping fog
of wintry night:
My eyes are clogged.
Billows of blight.
Dull cataracts
veil antique lamps,
gun cotton tracks,
pale wreaths of damp.
Yet though here loom
dun brooding hulks
of cold stone gloom
in misty sulk
the lamps shine forth
and shall not fail
’til dark fades north
and pulls the veil.
A meditation on surviving major depression inspired by a particularly bleak foggy night at the New Palace in Potsdam.