Golden windows
And golden walls. 
Silver back surfers
Riding through the fall. 
I'm here waiting 
Comiserating-
Why can't I stay in the Golden halls?

The trees are embers. 
There are apples on the floor.
I get the feeling 
death is at my door.  
wish I could stay in the golden halls. 

The golden halls. 
The golden halls. 
Wish I could stay in the golden halls.

This is about the feeling you get during a September sunset, and you know a long winter is just around the corner. Sending lots of love to my fellow S. A. D. sufferers <3

It's a touch repetitive which I hoped would convey a sense of rumination. Just like the days are getting shorter, each part is shorter than the last.

This is my first attempt at writing a poem and feedback is welcome, just be KIND!