Sunsetting Days – Poem

The cold hard wood, on which my bones rest
As the last rays warm me,
Dedicated to suns long since set –
Others who watched,
Who played and who sat.
The day is fading faster, the morning’s cold, hard,
Sharp frost long since melted,
And time to fear another.
The icy white of a hardened leaf,
A hardened heart, cold, dead eyes.
Up snakes the blades of green,
Wrapping, climbing, tightening their grip.
Squeezing.
The sun is fading faster and faster.
Its warming rays growing colder and colder.
It’s in my bones, it’s in my misty lungs.
It’s in my heart.
Another setting sun for me,
Icy tendrils in my veins, pulsating to every cell,
Blocking the green of their cloudless days.
Where is the sun?

© 10/12/11

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