The Lost Hour

[rejectomorph]

I like having the sky still dark when the clock says that it's only six A.M., but I know the clock lies! My brain still says it's an hour earlier. The cat, too, knows the true hour, and continues to nap on the couch. She usually goes out at seven, so she will be cranky if I wake her an hour early. Still, I must at least try to get to sleep, so I'll have to rouse her. That's one problem with having a bed that pretends to be a couch part of the time. It's almost as bad as having a lying clock. Oh, deceit is a terrible thing!




Sunday Verse

Remembering the Last Ranges

by Li Po

          1
 
  Long since I turned
to my East Ranges:
  How many times
have their roses bloomed?

  Have their white clouds
risen and vanished
  And their bright moon
set among strangers?


          2

  But I shall now
take Duke Hsieh's dancers:
  With a sad song
we shall leave the crowds

  And call on him
in the East Ranges,
  Undo the gate,
sweep back the white clouds!

-translated by Arthur Copper