Working Graveyard

Sun where are you?

You’re supposed to light us

When we’re active for a living

Is it your fault?

Or we just chose this to?

We are below the bright light

That replaces you

But nutritious heat from you is missing.

Our skin is dry as cold desert

Moist clogs beneath our skin.

Stagnant like ice which makes me shiver

Am I in the artic? Antarctic?

North Pole? South Pole?

I need energy from your heat now.

Not later. I’m working now.

I would hibernate later.

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