Clocks will fall this November night,
Back one hour, though it feels not right.
At 2 a.m., the time rewinds,
Extra sleep for all mankind!
But I chase the sun that lingers high,
Not 5 p.m., when shadows climb.
I love the hours that stretch and shine,
Long golden days before dark’s design.
Golden light that dances, free,
Spilling warmth for all to see.
Though autumn steals the long day’s glow,
I dream of sunlight’s gentle flow.
By Patricia Harris-Bowman