POEM: A Place

This is another poem for my sister, Beth.

A Place

I wish
Depression was a place
cold and dark
where people lived alone
barred up
in shrunken gray houses
no windows or doors,
where silence
was only broken with muted cries
and no other sound
touched air and took flight.

I wish
Depression was a place
laden with the fetid smell of salt
and stunted dreams,
where twisted naked trees
blocked light
from narrow winding roads.

Because if Depression was a place
I could go there,
I could take your hand, your arm
drag, pull, fight, free
you from there,
I could take you with me,
to the bright air and the sun and the music,
to fly, to soar, to laugh.