Bring On The Solstice

The solstice looms, and while I like the dark

More sun will be most welcome, I now find.

Black scenes make mirrors of my windows, stark

And merciless, reflecting me: my lined

And tired face when my workday is through,

My dull stupidity as I prepare

To leave ere sun-up ev'ry morning. Too,

Not much distracts me on my way to where

I spend the day without a window, in

A room where others dim the lights by choice.

I used to like the winter best, to grin

My way through blizzards; now I raise my voice

With all the rest: the short'ning of the days

Must end but soon! 'Tis a most ugly phase.