I sprung forward the other day.
Lost track of time along the way.
I was either an hour early or an hour late.
The paradox that is our track of time,
Cows don't know when to come home,
Cows don't know when to leave their home,
The sun comes up, and the sun goes down.
An evil clown with its head spinning around,
So if you spring forward, but find yourself behind,
Hidden in the clock, synchronized in orbit,
Springing forward and back in semiannual swings.
Leaping Lamb © Richard Peters Photography
Just a little musing about our twice annual messing with time.