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.