Not An Option
I remember dawn
Open windows bringing first rays of yellow
Night shadows disappearing
Gentle warmth flowing through my veins.
From my darkened cask, I daydream about
Other lifetimes, eternities ago, when
Running out to greet the morn was
Taken for granted, when
Heat was generated by the sight of your face at first light and
Everything took on a golden glow from the
Sun’s warmth. If only I could taste daylight again! But
Until I wake myself from this dark nightmare,
Nightlight will have to do.
(The above is an acrostic poem. The first letter of each line, reading down, spells out the phrase “I long for the sun”.)