living by the december shore

A dull throb (slow pulsing
waves that stroke the shore,
wear broken bottle glass into gems
with light that shines right through

the edges of a mind rounded
by dysthymia and the rocking arms
of cold weather, wrapped in wool
and antidepressant medication –
Wellbutrin to keep demons away
some grass to forget dependency,
and a warm cat to
curl around your purring sadness