by Lewis Gardner
Clocks move ahead, one hour less sleep,
but the mornings will be darker longer,
the days brighter. Crawling from our caves,
hungry as bears, ready to lap honey
wherever we find it.
Lewis Gardner has published poems and plays in a number of anthologies and magazines, as well as more than 60 poems and light-verse pieces in the New York Times. Originally from New England, he lives in Woodstock, New York.
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