End of Daylight Savings Time

While reading the news online this morning, I found a cache of poems allegedly about the end of daylight savings time. (click here) I’m not sure these poems were all written for this purpose, or indeed if any poem has a purpose. Most honored poets seem to be all mournful about the death of summer, anticipating rebirth, following classic poetic lines of thinking (some to the point of exhaustion on the parts of readers). I don’t know if I’ve just been spending too much time in the company of oppositional middle schoolers or at grooming the dogs’ shedding coats off of the animals and my clothing, but I’m (famous last words) ready to be transported out of autumn. I think the trees are with me in this.

Ahead of Time

Smug.
I walk the dogs at 7:46 on a Sunday,
beside trees ankle deep in confetti.
Not the least bit forlorn,
they seem ecstatic to be shed of their
shady responsibilities.
Masts fully trimmed,
they bolt from their roots
and reach freely
into the wind
with jazz hands,
ready for the icy voyage,
begging for adventure,
cheered on by puddles,
generally so unassuming,
now glittery with excitement.
I receive this advance notice
in a quick sniff,
grateful that this morning,
this one morning,
I am ahead of time.

3 responses to “End of Daylight Savings Time”

  1. Eva says:

    I like that way of looking at autumn, ready to grasp something new and untried!

  2. Steve says:

    Deeee-licious. I love it. Earlier today as I as basking in the chilly morning (OK 54 degrees, but this IS FL) I was thinking how it felt like the beginning of something new. Come on, Autumn. Bring it!

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