Daylight Savings
Poetry
Published in
Nov 15, 2022
November liquidates
diminishing returns,
its savings spent
by a squandering summer.
Elastic years have been
stretched and strained,
squeezed like tantalizing fruit
tempting us to believe
we’ve seized more time.
But behind barren trees,
vestiges of light shimmer through
branches that cast shifting shadows on our walls
like a sundial gnomon slicing up borrowed time,
cutting short our precious golden hours.
