Day 60

Day 60:

I open the curtains, when I first awaken.

It is pitch dark outside, as autumn pushes the sun down,

blocking it's path towards the sky.

But I do not close the curtains.

My eyes are open, my window into life,

as are my curtains, the window to my window,

which is my window to other life.

I go outside, and look up at the back of my house.

The other curtains are closed,

the rest of my family not yet opening their eyes to the day.

My shed does not have curtains,

it never sleeps, 

a constant guard of our outdoor belongings.

Always vigilant and never fading.

The sun cracks and defeats it's autumnal pressure,

and day rises across the land.

Through my opened curtains floods a stream of natural light.

I need no light-bulbs or candles,

my energy is taken from the world around me.

As the day passes, and night draws in,

the light fades from the outside world,

returning to darkness, pierced by street lights and headlamps.

But I do not close my curtains.

I am still awake, my experience of the day yet to be concluded.

Also, because I cannot be bothered to close my curtains,

even though I probably should.

People can see inside very easily with the electric light on,

especially if there are valuables on display,

this can be a problem.

Outlasting the sun, I draw my own day to a close,

and draw my curtains to a close,

resting and recharging, for the cycle to begin anew.

In the next day of the deepening autumn.