The Lost Hour
The world demands that I change my clocks tonight. So I wound the hands one hour forward on the wall clock in my office. I will turn the hands one hour forward on my wristwatch tonight. I will poke and prod the digital clocks into obedience.
And I watch that lost hour slip through my fingers, like sand.
I could have read a hundred pages of a decent hovel in an hour. I could have written a couple of thousand words.
If asleep, I could have dreamed an entire story of a dream.
I could have written an email, done a load of laundry, fed the cats or the squirrels. I could have nipped into town and done a batch of errands.
All right, not at this PRECISE hour. Not at 2 AM. But it's still an hour stolen, an hour gone, an hour spirited away somewhere never to be seen again.
I HATE daylight saving time. Why can't we all just live like the Earth turns?...
And I watch that lost hour slip through my fingers, like sand.
I could have read a hundred pages of a decent hovel in an hour. I could have written a couple of thousand words.
If asleep, I could have dreamed an entire story of a dream.
I could have written an email, done a load of laundry, fed the cats or the squirrels. I could have nipped into town and done a batch of errands.
All right, not at this PRECISE hour. Not at 2 AM. But it's still an hour stolen, an hour gone, an hour spirited away somewhere never to be seen again.
I HATE daylight saving time. Why can't we all just live like the Earth turns?...