Seasonal Affective Disorder

Serotonin returns suddenly, without warning 

laughing

as if its departure were only a cruel 

party trick.

It crosses the subdued lawn,

nonchalant,

beelines for my open door—

“Thank you,” 

I grovel,

my knees press firmly into the dirt, 

evicting earthworms,

crushing snowdrops and crocus.

My eyes rise to meet the sun 

at last—

my perennial saviour—

and I exhale with the gut punch of  life:  

pupils dilated.