My Familiar

Good morning, Black Dog, here we are again
coupled up, me and you, shadow that needs no sun
nor, so it seems, any light at all to appear
and if not exactly visible, sure as death you’re there.

I wouldn’t call you any sort of friend of mine
nor a sworn enemy either, more
a sad companion, my familiar. Some say
you’re in the blood and will or won’t materialize one day

others that it’s almost like falling in love, suddenly 
you belong alongside nobody but me
and when I end, you will. Maybe. All I know is when
I woke this morning there you were yet again

and I fell back down the old pit-shaft, down, down
and now I’m as far away as the far side of the moon
that’s always in the dark, never feels the sun.
Black Dog, hang dog, have done with me, will you, soon.