WINDOW WATCHING HOURS
My body simply won’t accept the fact
That day light saving’s five o’clock is not
A morning’s four a.m. And so I sit
Afraid to trouble household sleep. I sit
And window watch. At first the ornate lamps
That line my street; the oak trees naked now
From icy winds insisting fall is winter time.
At half-past-four the specters come. Poor ghosts
Who must punch time clocks for their jobs. When heat
Was summer’s signature, they ambled; now
The hurry somewhere to escape cold’s hands.
I’m quite aware when it’s five thirty with
No need to search for moonlight just to check
My watch. Our crafty cat has opened all
The cupboard doors AGAIN and smugly struts
To me meowing, “Want to see what I have done?”
With quiet grandeur dawn seduces night.
It’s then I’m sure I’m joyously alive.
Nov 18, 2011 12:09:53 amby wysiwig Homepage »
Blessedly I don't have to watch clocks anymore but, oh, how I remember. My cat used to stand on my chest. "Me-out, me-out. Ne-ow, ne-ow. And of course, like most cats, you open the door and get hit by a blast of freezing air and she looks at you as though you ar the one that's going out. You do have the most wonderful way with words, sir. I haven't thought of the cat in a long time.