The Lost Hour

 The Lost Hour


If we are springing forward,

            After all,

What are we gaining?

            After all?


From two to three, 

            Like two never happened.

From three to three-and-then,

            As if three were magic.


If we are gaining a gap,

            After all,

What about the bounce?

            After all?


Cuckoos and cockadoodles

Proceeding unawares,

Dawn’s early lights and moonbeams

            Proceeding without cares,


Sunspots and sore spots and freckles and scars.


Atoms and quarks and preons,

            Charging cosmic airs,

Bending constructs with prisms,

            Hue’d stellar repairs:


If we jump into the abyss,

If we flap our wings,

If we fight the gravity,

            Against the dark star,

If we save for autumn’s

            Surly recompense,

If we wait to bounce  back,

            After all.


If we pause at event’s horizon,

            Ante all,

What might we gain,

            In The Fall

            After all?


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