|
Daylight Savings Time
by John Flynn
appears in our lives
like a thief in the night
in March after the
high school tourneys.
Coming as it does,
like a thief in the
middle of the night,
few notice until the
alarum resounds
the morning after.
from which there
is no pill; just the
recurring thought
that once again
you don’t know
what the hell
just happened.
But I’ll go along
and wait ‘til fall
to make a stand.
Meanwhile I set all
my new poems
ahead one hour.
|
|