1999

The Sun in September

Your daylight is fading.
You build up the walls
of your ivory tower.
Winter is settling in.
The colours of summer are dying,
bleached from the sun
they pale away.
The leaves are beginning to tear,
the sun is exhausted,
her rays lose their fire.
You close the doors;
lock and seal them.
The wind is a siren.
The whisper of breeze
turns into demons.
The rain hails,
beats down the chimney.
You set fires to catch it.
The sky responds with lightning,
the thunder aches your head.
You sleep uneasy,
dream of summer shades.
You are cold;
it sets in your bones.
You turn to stone.