Not a true day of sunshine since
                               the twenty-first day of December.

                   Three weeks since winter’s arrival with its clouds
                   of dysthymia and discontent.

                                             A grey day, darker than most, today is
                                     another period of insurmountable sadness.

     Maudlin melancholy; I cannot say it doesn’t affect me,
                                   as I know it does, as I know it must.

                       It is seasonal, this daunting depression,
     days like today make you appreciate the otherwise.

© 2923 j.g. lewis