Written when the veil has come down and is around my shoulders. Written in honour of ALL who travel with black dog somewhere around, nearby and who wonder why …..yet all will be well. 

BLACK DOG.

He doesn’t bite,
this black, silent dog.
He just catches your darkened eye
in a quick skewed glance,
keeping you captive with his heavy stare
and drops down his silken swaddling cloth,
dampening you,
dampening life.

Hush.
Be still.
Be quiet…..
don’t you make a fuss now.

You don’t ask for this-
he just does it…..
you the prisoner,
he the stumm, cold jailer
who comes and goes
at his own pleasure.

Shake out of it.
Pull yourself together.
Cheer up.
You’ve got so much to be thankful for.

They call him Depression
and pump you, his captive,
the silenced manekin with drugs….
They hope black dog will be gone…..
But we know, black dog and I
that he lifts the veil off, that swaddled cloth,
as fast as he dropped it on,
only at his choosing;
not theirs nor mine, but his.