From the pen of Turlough Ó Maoláin ...

The Chronicles of Bulgaria

When It Gets Late Earlier


As my hemisphere gets darker

The men who wind up the world

Decide to make it darker still

Just days before my birthday

When I always wish for more light

As I blow out the candles.


Perhaps I shouldn't blow them out.


In exchange for lateness starting early

They give us an extra sixty minutes

To do with as we please.

I used mine to adjust my clocks

When I could have boiled twenty eggs.


It actually took me sixty seven

Which made the darker nights

Even harder to swallow

Than twenty hard boiled eggs.


Hard to swallow.

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