I have to admit to being a bit pessimistic about my future as an American worker. With the days of pensions long gone for most of us and the future of social security anything but secure, I cannot see that I will ever be able to retire and enjoy whatever time would remain. My current plans are to work until I drop, trying to find enjoyment in the here and now because tomorrow is never guaranteed.
That said, our illustrious editor recently sent out a cartoon to all of us contributors, which inspired me to take a closer look at my viewpoint.
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* A New Yorker cartoon by George Price (1901 – 1995).
Inside Trader
I am what I have gathered,
pieces procured through barter,
a soul broken down and
rebuilt as life happens,
compromises made,
in the passages of time.
I am declared free,
finally,
from the shackles of society,
celebrated in a moment
of sponge cake and stories,
boxed up and shuffled
out the door to enjoy life:
everything we planned,
everything we ever wanted.
But these borrowed knees shake,
these hands have lost their strength,
these once firm shoulders
angle down with the same gravity
that pulls me closer to the end.
I am what I have left:
my mind,
my eyes,
one good leg.
this once muscular body
gone soft.
I am a shadow,
the once held dreams
of a glorious sunset
lost to the cloudy gloom
of sacrifices made
along the way
to get here,
where I now bide time
trying to rekindle joy
watching memories as reruns
long past the dead of night.
| Copyright © 2021 by Maik Strosahl Michael E. Strosahl has focused on poetry for over twenty years, during which time he served a term as President of the Poetry Society of Indiana. He relocated to Jefferson City, Missouri, in 2018 and currently co-hosts a writers group there. |
Great lines--I'm jealous I didn't think of them:
ReplyDeletecelebrated in a moment
of sponge cake and stories,
boxed up and shuffled
out the door to enjoy life
A poem that can be two poems--one with the first two stanzas where optimism rules and the second--the last three stanzas (deleting the but in the first line of the third stanza) and we have two very satisfying poems--or a contrast between optimism and pessimism. I like optimism better.
Thanks for sharing.
By the way, I did not read his essay introducing the poem. I only read the poem.
ReplyDeleteMaik, I told my friend who sent me the cartoon that it has inspired a poet, and he read and lauded your inspiration:
ReplyDeleteThanks for forwarding that sweet poem.
Actually, in recent weeks my dreams have become longer, and more convincing— last week I was reunited with an early sweetheart, who left us at fifty (cancer), and we definitely made up for lost time!!
For another take on the sentiment we have, of course, The Bard:
Shakespeare’s Sonnet 73
That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruined choirs where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou see’st the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west,
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou see’st the glowing of such fire
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed whereon it must expire,
Consumed with that which it was nourished by.
This thou perceiv’st, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.