Here it is again….Low Pressure: A Poem “Black Dog and The Widow”

This pain, not physical so no one can see
it’s why I wear a glum face for lunch
depression my guest today
welcome in I say
I feel I have no choice
but to let her in and have her way
the black dog
comes and throws up
over the carpet
barking at me the details
of how sad my life is
no recourse to the facts
are they the real reality anyway?
I cannot tell
the black dog is large
and taking up all my attention
I am angry but feel powerless
drained of vitality
it only took thirty minutes to arrive
destination overcast
when outside the sun beats
spring cool breeze coiling
I should feel happy
shouldn’t I?
the black dog looks up
her owner I spy in the corner
she’s dressed in black
perennial widow of the world
she’s the voice and persona
of scornful mourning
beyond reasoning
she laughs and agrees
yes your world is so sad
so sad you shall be.
 
No! I think
I run to the computer
my thoughts ordered by print
it’s logic that I need
she leaves sashaying
whistle between teeth
black dog follows
leaving a small pile of hair
on the sofa.
 
Gone, for now
she’ll be back
with black
am I prepared?

P. Thomasson
11th April 2015

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