Ruth Walters

(London, U.K.)

Retirement


A filing cabinet
lies empty, case closed,
its keys left on
a dusty floor.

Familiar, mundane chores
are set aside now
to be lost or
await new brooms.

Where are the keys
to my tomorrows?
My new life
has yet to come.

I await my rebirth
as an older citizen,
freedom pass to hand,
as a golden Autumn dawns.

This retirement lark may be
a drawn out waltz
to the grave
but I'm not giving in.

I wink at it
with blurred vision,
stiff joints
and a cheeky smile,

rejoicing that
I'm finally free
while I thumb my nose
at old age.

Submitted: Sunday, July 13, 2014
Edited: Sunday, July 20, 2014

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  • Jacqueline Nash (7/25/2014 4:32:00 AM)

    Superb poem. Retirement is just another phase of life and no reason why it can't be fun and enjoyable, for some people it can be the best part of their life as long as their health is reasonable. Keep on writing and keep on rocking. (Report) Reply

  • John Brown (7/22/2014 9:26:00 AM)

    I felt sad until I got to the verse that begins 'This retirement lark' - and then all was well again. (Report) Reply

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