Answer:
Lighter than what I am made of, More of me is hidden Than is seen.
Late afternoons I often bathe. I'll soak in water piping hot. My essence goes through. My see through clothes. Used up am I - I've gone to pot.
Who is he that runs without a leg. And his house on his back?
Whiling away the hours of flowers, Walking through fields of gold. Preening and pruning in lights fading hours, For petals to freeze in the cold. What is it?
I move without wings, Between silken string, I leave as you find, My substance behind.
I tell people to be careful when handling boxes.