November Frost

Letters entangle as my speech webs
like a black widow, it flows and ebbs.
Words upon paper, black of night
I summon a spirit, glowing light.

Within my reach I spy a ghost
the one who always loved me; most
out of sunrise, birthed a shadow
twirling auras crossed the meadow.

And in between the light of day
cast my heart into the bay
married a memory; I had lost
watched it die- one November frost.

Now I sit and twiddle my thumbs
biting lips, becoming numb
forgetting who I was born to be
losing the essence of you and me.