On the bike path,
windswept leaves; 
a tangle of bittersweet,
A time for turned up collars
and a quickened step.
With the “spring forward
and fall back” rhyme
ringing in our ears,
we deduct an hour of 
daylight from our afternoon,
and add it to our morning.
Hard to mourn
the early darkening
that descends with
the falling back of the clocks
on this November day,
when Sunday gravy 
bubbles on the stove
and the fireplace beckons
with a crackle and a snap.