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.