On GMT

On GMT

The clocks changed last week,
An hour lost and time compressed
The days now short.

So, under cover of dark at five
Winter comes bold and battering to our doors.
No sun to scare her
The pale air chilled like old bones

And in the deep layers of unused drawers
We retrieve our last year's clothes,
Musty, scented with Spring's last traces.

Another season passed.
The cold creeps near.

:o(