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Poem: Ruse 7. (12/1/08) 

at 6:55 a.m. the weatherman announced
that we would be losing two minutes
of daylight compared to the previous day.
where will it be lost, perhaps
when sorting through books, envelopes,
rejection slips, or when coming across
a misprint in a gray morning
of so little light that the error
of this day might be noted.
there is nothing so bright as a winter storm
when the blinds are down & your eyes are shut.
maybe tonight we will meet the moon
& gather more time along the way
& then one could skip over a few minutes of clock time.

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