A mixture of opposite impulses,

selfish and giving,

giving and selfish,

I am both,

a constant and dramatic tension.

Last winter for three straight days a cardinal sat in the bushes outside my window, a colorful addition to those barren winter days. 

(the branch, barely sagging, slightly moved in the breeze.) 

There were cardinals all the time in the backyard of his house, when he still lived there, installed about the bright red against the whiteness of the snow. 

He used to watch them while he ate, then he sat on the porch as day became night.

(his hair became whiter)

This winter visit fit in with  my mania and lifted the ever present depression that always follows Christmas, so I was content to sit and watch.

(just as he once was)

I was not yet aware of how much worse this year would get,

how the isolation would wear me down and steal the optimism.from my mind and how many more of the people and things I once loved so much would be taken away and destroyed and from here on out never heard from again. 

So much has changed and the year was still only just beginning.

(just.as he once did)

I wait now for the inevitable, for something to break out of this melancholy.

(the joy is gone) 

Everything and everyone is so far, far away.

T.S. Deary

9/3 – I 0/4/2020