Ghosts That Wear the Dust of Shattered Stars

We ghosts that wear the dust of shattered stars,
That shield the rising dawn in cobweb’s silk.
Refuse to live our single day’s become,
But rather fear, regret, its coming loss.

How quick we are to fill our lives with things,
How quick the loss of things becomes our fear.
Those things that take the form of demon gods,
Those things that steal the joys our day would spend.

The naked sun should warm our naked flesh,
The running water sooth our fevered wants,
To close our minds to all the has not been,
To linger in this single moment’s soul:

That press of lover’s warmth in summer throws,
That weight of eager rush as each relents.
We sold to thoughts of how we’ll meet their end.
We ghosts that wear the dust of shattered stars.

#NaPoGloPoWriMo2020