by Jim Farfaglia
The days arrive later,
the sun breaking through the long night
to shine on frosted backyards.
From his highest perch
a songbird waits for daybreak.
Deep into the morning, he finally sings.
Leaves count down the days,
falling toward winter. They pile up,
the world a giant hourglass.
The clocks have been turned back
and we inch forward,
to a quieter time, a resting time.