The shortest day of the year draws nearer.
The lazy sun sleeps in a little longer
But the boss understands; he lets it slide
Because it’s been a long tiring year. And then
The sun slips out a few moments before
Closing time. The customers are miffed
But most adjust—after all, it happens
Every year like clockwork. Fading light
Becomes night life, and the holidays
Celebrate its brevity; but the parties
Take their toll, the boss gets impatient, and
The work piles up. Somebody’s got to pick
Up the slack… so up comes the sun, gradually
Rising to the task and pulling the rest
Of the world along. Enjoy the fading light
While it lasts… before it also fades away.