A blood ritual on the altar of time.
Rolling back daylight for another hour of sleep.
Trading an hour of sleep for eternal night.
The people blame it on the farmers.
Or blame it on Benjamin Franklin.
But we still bring our sacrifices to the altar.
Falling backwards in time.
Springing forward in time.
Trading an hour for an hour again and again.
Darkness approaches.
We can’t keep it at bay for too long.
Now I just need to figure out the clock in my car…again…
Header Photo Credit to Neil de Boer/Village Photographer on WordPress
https://villagephotographer.wordpress.com/2012/03/18/417/
Allen The Writer 