When the days grow darker

Earlier

And an orange August glow no longer lights neighborhood pavement

I’ll stumble to a room beneath the surface

To find the cold broke in

And the air thinned out

Voices bounce off soundproofed walls,

Then slip under the door

And nails, painted red, will find the switch

Flick, flinch

And I’ll turn on the light

To those who revel in darkness

Who sit in my room

And blow at my wavering wick

Fall back,

Spring forward