I was so free of that decade of depression,
that I hadn’t thought of it outside distant memories.
Even in the middle of a war that I could only witness
I could still find stars through the gun smoke
but, to continue the metaphor,
at an odd hour the stars were captured by dark clouds,
and I was blanketed with that steady depressive weight.
As if to brighten the edges of contentedness,
and remind me to appreciate the marvel of the night sky