Daylight Saving Time

By Joan E. Gordon

I ask you — or anybody—
Why does it have to take 10 to make 1?
And even more puzzling —
Why bother?

Mid-March, 2 a.m.
Time for the biannual 10-step ritual:
  “Clock”
  “Start”
  “Month”
    [caveat: add 0 if less than 10;
     if programming error,
     time could stop short;
     someone might fall off the edge of the planet]
  “Day”
  “Year”
  “Hour”
  “Minutes”
  “Seconds”
  “p.m.”
  or “a.m.”

 Now for number 10;
Required to lock it all in;
whatever it all is...
“Clock,” it demands!
I obey! 

Cautiously, nervously, I peer around —
I await a momentous sign of forwardness — 
Perhaps the giving way of the long-strained door jamb on its tenuous hinge —
An added creak on the stair —
The jolt of suddenly being an hour older —
A shift in the axis of the Earth —
An additional wrinkle appearing on my face —
Quick, a mirror!!
A new grey hair?
Exhale — nothing — no difference noticed.
Relief — it’s only a perception;
A perceived perception of relative nothingness. 

But ritual was adhered to.
Reward: the awaited legitimization manifests!
“3 a.m.” now blazes in LED neon green.
10 did make 1.

 I am happy —
A guaranteed 6-month happiness.
All is well in my world of inconsequential perceptions.
Best of all, no aging!

Inconsequential perceptions are evidently species specific.
A friend in another state told me her dog was visibly disturbed;
Grumpy and uncooperative with off-schedule tamperings.
Sleep was interrupted by an untimely meal slid under his nose.
Dogs know that 10 can never make 1.