Wellington turns the sun out
promptly at 6 o'clock;
naively thinking that with this
punishment of darkness,
the naughty children will
be compelled to sleep.
As Baxter says, 'I think not.'
The whispers, laughter, and other
general debaucheries of life
continue on, (if not more so, then)
even in the absence of the light.
Maybe it is a tribute
to our capitalist ethos,
or else a reflection
of certain wasted energies,
that I, as an American,
can remember splendoured days
playing in the streets
'til nigh on half-past-eight.
But that was a childhood
ages ago, and now I spend
my daylight saving time
for a future that I hope
will sparkle like this city
in the tumult of the harbour.
We wake, sins forgiven,
to the crashing waves
of a new day, that same sun
radiant among the clouds.

I could, certainly,
call this place home.

TMK 9sept2007