Committing Treason in Old Age
What song shall I sing as the end gets closer?
I sang the notes of her homecoming
before she set out.
‘Are you bored?’ she had asked
on the phone as if I’m a tiger
caged & prowling —
but there are no bars
just a man getting older
whose purpose trails behind
a lifetime’s work.
The question to pick up
or retire looms like a choice.
They slashed my pension
when I moved abroad as if
I had committed treason.
Do we not all ride the haystacks
of circumstance
living just above the head
where the silent roar is permanent
where we have some chance of being heard?
Copyright Simon Heathcote