A Poem a Day Keeps the Zoloft Away

I woke up in an immature

wood,

with silver birches,

skinny barked bodies

painted two coats, in

moonlight and darkness,

the frost came out of my mouth

and shot down the lanes

of moonlit shadows,

the bi-polarity frightened me

beyond control,

then I woke up again

waiting for the sweats

to break as I

breathed air in a realm

which could never contain something so

fantastic.

#327