Wandering through winter,
I'm so warm during the day-
The sun shining upon my face,
A golden blanket
Covering me, and
Loving me.
I feel so alive.

And at night,
As she slips away
Slowly and
Quietly,
I am cold & alone.

My poor hands
Can never hold heat.
Everything is a tired effort
And I can't create.

The dark is unfriendly
Unfamiliar
And I search for ways
To build light
Without her presence.

Artificial,
Unorganic rays
To guide the way,
Can't hold up to
The sincere, nurturing star.

My petite limbs
Have nothing
To photosynthesize.