My brother read my poetry, then called to ask me if I was doing okay.

“It’s very somber.”

But I tango with much more somber subjects. 

And slide my feet around to the blues.

Yes, I am blue some days.

But I’ve branched some new horizons

I have a therapist and a new prescription

And sometimes those things help me.

And sometimes the days are good.

So how do I tell my brother that I am content with this somber.

How do I squeeze his hand and let him know that I still look

For the ends of rainbows. That I still fill my basket with

the rays of golden sunshine peeking through.

I see this somber as my success story.

No, not all my days are success stories.

But yes, depression lifts in the spring sometimes.

But yes, there is still rain in the spring.

But yes, that means rainbow, and as I said,

I still look for the ends of rainbows.

And everything will be alright.

And I think I am okay.

But thank you for asking.