days seem to grow long
light extended
by artifice
we the impatient
refusing to bow
to the whims of nature
supper dishes
have been washed
and dried
and sun still sparkles
on snow drifts
I count no victory
in driving back the night
I know too well
the deep dark of morning
hanging out at the pub tonight
we have def affected the natural rhythms of life with our artificial life...and in that upset many a thing...
ReplyDeleteBeautiful writing. The rhythms of nature continue whether we bow to them or not; and actually I think we can take comfort in that.
ReplyDeleteI specially like the ending line, deep dark of morning ~ Lovely share and great imagery ~
ReplyDeleteEnjoyable read and I love the ending, as I am a fan of the dark, early morning hours.
ReplyDeletePamela
I love that last line... I just can't get used to it this time around...
ReplyDeleteyou are a gem! = )
oh yes... the dark of morning is the price for a lighter evening... we have another week until they change the clocks over here..
ReplyDelete(a remark on word verification, it's really hard to see the numbers at times... i usually give up after trying three times..)
That last line is haunting - I really love the way "the deep dark of morning" brings echoes of mourning too.
ReplyDeleteLovely poem ..well said ;)
ReplyDeletethat quiet time of morning is definately worth the later sunlight hours, it's the best time to write!
ReplyDeleteTruly lovely. The final line really tugs at me. Thanks for sharing ~peace, Jason
ReplyDeleteI love this. I remember well waking up on the farm and feeling as you did. Thank you for capturing my memories.
ReplyDeleteCheers,
Mark Butkus
really nice!
ReplyDeleteThis is very nice...I love the last line, suggestive of darkness beyond that of the long long night. The lighter later aspect is highlighted nicely in your line about the supper dishes are done and the sun still shines on the snow...That is a little fascinating to a southern gal. We see no snow after the time change.
ReplyDelete