Nights are too long
for those who cannot sleep;
too short for those who labor
longer than is wise to keep a roof overhead.
Each needing to secure
what is needed to survive
and avoid their demise.
Retirement brings no respite
from feeling desperate.
It is not a lock against the clock
clicking through anxieties that bind
sleep deprived prisoners to their comfy chairs
to sit and simply stare until they can awake
and shake off lost hours abed;
too weary to take a walk
or pick up the phone to talk,
or create anything worth the time to wait
for applause, faint praise or commendation;
too tired not to expect condemnation.
Why should their be applause
for simply living long enough to retire,
as if gaining years allowed
some reason to feel proud?
Perhaps some lives, like some nights, can be too long.
Time to get up and dance through the dawn.
No life is ever too long
once we learn to dance to our own song.
