These Days of Growing Darkness
Though we know it inevitable, we forget
how quickly the light disappears
when the clocks change: time moves backward.
The lamps come out to ease the bleakness.
What has been a safe hour for hens
is now a threat. Spotted between
the Bradford’s bungalow and next door,
a fox draws near.
For months sunlight dominated: out
till late, then back up before four.
If we rose with the cock’s crow, the ground
and air were already warm to the touch.
There was so much we could get done.
The fox had little time to mayhem,
too easy a target for stones and shotgun.
Even equinox had been a casual stroll,
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