Ruth Walters - 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 plod
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.

Ruth Walters

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/retirement-49/