Shorter Days
I like when days are shorter,
Though I know most won’t agree,
But getting out before the sunrise
Seems just right to me.
On winter days I read in bed
Before I venture out.
Yet now, with just one chapter,
There’s a bright blue sky, no doubt.
I miss the oranges and pinks
That make the sky aglow.
It’s like having front row seats
For Nature’s early morning show.
The daylight hours stretch, as well,
So when it’s sunny-bright
At the dinner hour and beyond,
It doesn’t feel like night.
I much prefer the coziness
Of being tucked inside
When the afternoon is slowly
Starting on its evening slide.
Alas, my preferences take hold
For one-half of the year
And to the rules, I have no choice
But simply to adhere.
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