Daylight Savings

This hour stolen from us,
an hour of joy; an hour
of misery; an hour of work
or dreaming. The sparrows
go on building their nest
in the long-untenanted
birdhouse. Cows wait
at the barn gate, slowly
swishing their tails.
Mountains fall beneath
the sun. We all go on
as before.

Comments

[sbpoet]

Just testing the comment feature.

[Anne]

If only i could go on as before. Each passing year seems more difficult for the body clock to make the transition. Hope you're doing smashingly, however.