Gray Winter

Bleak.
This Gray Winter,
snowless, soundless, hanging heavy on my shoulders.
After my sunny childhood, the Darkness bereaves me.
Will the Bright Summers come again?
Will the stars wander back to me?
Will there be a life after the solstice?
The Ghosts reappear,
the things I didn't know but wish I did,
the things I knew and wish I didn't,
the homes I lost and never had.
They say it's better if you take vitamin D.
Or other things.
I've done that. It's not, really -
sunshine in a capsule is not the same,
and I'd like my liver to keep living as long as I do.
I pull my blankets tight,
I remember the far off days
when I couldn't wait to go outside,
and like the trees that won't give up even when it frosts,
 a part of my heart puts out little buds,
throws its own flickering stars onto the Bleakness,
hopes once more for Gray Winter to end.