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Retirement Home Reverie ©

John McCormick
Bass Lake, Ontario, Canada
2003

They came last night
And took her away,
Perhaps with luck,
Iíll go today.
Each dayís the same,
What else is new?
Another lunch,
Of Irish stew.
A cheerless tune,
A note or two,
Is struck upon the grand piano.
I look outside.
The birds are free
To come and go.
Unlike me,
Pre-eminent of all creation,
Can only sit in meditation
Feeling sorry for myself.
There must be more to life, I know.
Things to do,
Places to go.
But I sit here, as in a cell.
My life now but
An empty shell.
Memories of youth
And when we danced
I well remember.
My life, thoí now in its December,
Iíll go back to then.
Although to you
My stare seems vacant,
I am there now, and happy.
Therefore, be you not complacent,
Build memories.
For when you do,
Just like me,
You can go there too.


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