Day after Daylight Savings

Blue numbers on my bedside clock
tell I forgot to change the hour.
This sets routines on haywire.
 
Like a domestic goat staked
to its circle of earth.
I don’t do well untethered.
 
I have no hunger for early dinner,
become confused by the sound
of children who seem out
 
too late for a school night.
They’ve found an extra helping
of daylight to romp on new grass
 
and can’t contain themselves,
strip off jackets, scatter
like a rag of ponies.
 
Whatever time says,
their joy insists
on springing forward.

Margaret Hasse, "Day after Daylight Savings" from Between Us.  Copyright © 2016 by Margaret Hasse.  Reprinted by permission of Margaret Hasse. 
More Poems by Margaret Hasse