Artificial Days

This winter sun has left us,
The sky is tinged with blue and yellow.
The trees begin their silhouetted dance,
Strained eyes inside begin to focus.

The grass underfoot is burning
In the passionate fire of our heavy hearts.
I can see it, on the horizon,
That line of red beneath the deepening blue.

Lamps flood the room around us,
Light your candles on the stove.
Ignore the seduction of the night,
Bend your will to press on
In artificial days.

Sky! I sigh, please not tonight,
Night sky, your dark skin may be perfect
Your face transformed, sweet breath
And come to bed eyes,
But circumstance separates
Our tear-strewn cheeks.