Daylight Slaving Time

The twice annual ritual of time travel occur tonight in which we step back an hour, regaining the sacrifice we offered to Kronos in March. Here is a short poem on the subject to read if you are up at two A.M. with nothing to read. It is from a book of poem I wrote titled, The Funny Thing About a Poem.

Marking Time

Today was longer

than the day before

with the hour we borrowed 

in March when they seemed 

so ripe and fresh

only now filled with leaves

piled beneath bare trees

waiting for someone

to sweep them away

like the hands of a clock

marking time in passing

People ask where time goes

salt from a shaker 

seasoning the savor of life

If well-preserved it melds 

into collections of memories

hours here and there

piled high at the feet

only waiting 

for one Fall day 

with an extra hour

to press them into

the scrapbook of sorts

that is where time goes

when it steps back

one hour suspended

waiting for time

to pass once more

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