Not tempered

Change comes hard, even when it's written on the calendar.

I am still not tempered

To the evening sky

An hour earlier

Than it should be

Dark and darker

I wait for the hour

To slip back

Where it once was.

I know I am not in charge

Of time

This time or really

Any time.

Still

I keep hoping

For different things

To come to pass.

I do not want to wait.

I am not tempered

To this particular darkness.