The old timepieces were more forgiving than all the new kind, as this sweet poem testifies. I offer it on this day with its oncoming plunge into early darkness later on. It‘s called “Time Change” but I have no record of its author. Lovely anyway:
Time is different with a digital watch.
The minutes that used to limp around
The small dial on my left wrist
Come in early these days
Like the train.
I wound it myself then
But now time has changed.
It jumps up at me
Hours minutes seconds even days
My new watch says
It’s now or never, kid.
Whatever became of o’clock?
You could make it last as long as an ice bar
Or another kiss,
Walk in late
And still be on time.