He was not so much depressed
as he was being depressed
as in pushed down
his soul pinned to the ground
by thugs of lethargy
his face sewn shut
his heart abandoned
like a dirty cup

I thought about him today
wondered where he lives
or whether

my wish took me by surprise
like winter air
a sharp ache
a need to know that those thugs left him alone
that he floated back together
into that treacherous and astounding
place of hope.