Retired

Ah what a happy day it will be
The day I hang away my key
The day when I can stay abed
And the clock no longer dread
But possibly there may be fear
How will I fill each day each year
And will my assets meet my needs
My doubt doth grow from such small seeds
It did arrive, its joy its dread
Now I find what’s new instead
Is how I’ll ever find a way
To fit it all into my day

© Lucille Falk Miller
~June 7, 1996