I find Myself wilting...

 

^{In this November Light;}

^{the mornings late, the evenings early,}

^{I try to keep my anchor bound to summer shores;}

^{Feet dancing over hot sand, salt foams soothing between toes,}

^{But the vast sea that was my vista}

^{becomes framed in prison walls of ever smaller durations}

^{‘till the sun is but fleeting shadows passing over walls}

 

^{In darkness I am a red wood in a cave;}

^{contained as in a bottle, but not so well preserved.}

^{Your yellow light is as honey to me}

^{I long for it like the many leaves .}

^{So here, strolling aimlessly along a wintry shore,}

^{the sand grown cold like a sudden corpse,}

^{I find myself wilting sympathetically.}