Retiring Poem by Phil Soar

On my own, I am a nomad
Wandering and wondering

In company, I am alone
Even though I communicate

I am in the garden of my youth
And the buzz lifts my spirits

Yet through the complications of age
I stop for no-one

Incapable of understanding
I drift off into my own space

The schedule I keep is monotonous
Lets hope retirement means new openings

If my mind will allow
I maybe born again

And keep time with my new grandson
A child again.