* * * * *
Fine. We lose an hour this weekend.
Fine.
I'm grateful to have an extra hour every day
to tend the crops and put the tractor and horses up.
And to wash up before the dinner Ma has ready.
We'll read some Mark Twain by candlelight,
then turn in for some shuteye b'fore mornin's sun
and those chores begin anew.
Aw, hell...I'm just grateful.
Bring it on, Spring!
* * * * *
