Last Day of Summer

The clocks go back tonight
And bring finality to summer’s long days.
What shall I do in the winter darkness
But paint and read and enjoy my home
And my friends of many years.
Those from heat-bound places
Say they envy us our seasons
Of switching cold and warmth
For it is true variety.
Tomorrow’s morn will be lighter
But oh the evening’s darker still;
Curtains drawn at four thirty
And the lights turned on.
Shall I desire next summer’s fast approach?
No, for that would be an end of half my life.
To find enjoyment in the coldness of winter
Will be my aim and source of content.


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