By Aaron Suranofsky
Seasonal depression is a hillside of gray trees naked color stripped. The chilling wind a passing hand clutching around each branch, loose grip snipping the leaves, fingers splaying a confetti of brown, pencil strip boughs left to mourn. Seasonal depression is baring a foot of snow on each straining branch, cold, lifeless, blank. Sun molding tears into drooped spears of ice, each morning sunken deeper. Seasonal depression is conifers peaking their rounded summits. Beaming green from needles piercing their verdant shades past cloaks of white. Eternal conifer, a soft shoulder to lean when winter's too heavy. The cardinal’s conifer, humble it dries its breathing heart of red. Seasonal depression is shrugged off by neon buds of green, boughs unraveling, icicles crackling shattering at roots held firm, still holding. On the conifer smiles bright new supple spines, ever stretching to catch who'll be falling.
