Poem: The Changing of Time

The Changing of Time

You changed the clocks at midnight,
bringing the light to mornings again,
leaving you new time
to lay in bed at dawn
and listen

to the few straggler birds
who have not begun the exodus south,
their lone voices not exactly cheerful,
but defiant of the November cold,
while you lay warm

under generational quilts,
savoring the luxury
of another hour,
imaging the power to turn back time,

to years, even decades, to relive your mistakes,
not to change them,
for they are part of your soul,
but to live them with awareness
of their importance,
with a defiant smile,

knowing as you did not know then,
that the world would go on,
and that the mistakes,
while painful,
are never fatal.

===============

This poem began as a writing exercise. I got to thinking about writing a poem about daylight savings time (since we changed this past weekend), and this is what popped out.

The picture is from Fincastle Vinyards. Unlike most of the pictures I put up here, which often try to tie in the poem and the picture, this one has nothing to do with anything. I just liked the image. You can click on it to a larger view.

Tom