Daylight Saving Time should be a holiday,
celebrated and revered.
I start counting down the days
on that first Sunday in November,
wondering when we all
can return to sanity and fun.
One more hour at the golf course
One more hour to grill with friends
One more hour to catch fireflies
One more hour to play at the pool
One more hour to bow down in worship
to that enduring, unfailing sun.
One more hour of warmth to snuggle around your grave
One more hour for your flowers to beam proudly
One more hour for the grass to re-emerge and surround you
One more hour to lie down and read you a bedtime story.
One less hour I worry that you are afraid of the dark.
One more hour of fractured peace
this tenuous illusion might give me.