I recall this now, Max. Very considered. Written still while you had the rigours - or memory - of regular work in your bones I would guess. And the sudden opportunity to linger in your garden and consider what that meant. You catch that lull. People do think they can 'bestow' retirement on you don't they: ''have the rest of your life'. I think I shared with once before a sign on the Cann River Motel, lifted almost holus bolus from your poem: 'For the Rest of Your Life!'
Cheers,
Bill
> On 13 Mar 2015, at 4:30 am, Max Richards <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
>
> Ah retirement! - well said, Bill.
>
> I wrote the piece below even before I retired…since which day, end of 2004, I have lived under four different roofs,
> in very different locations, lost that garden and its firewood, left behind axe and saw, and prefer not cremation but
> burial at Arthurs Creek between Melbourne and the Great Divide, as mentioned a while back.
>
> Max in Seattle
>
> The Retiree in Winter
>
> Off you go, they said,
> have the rest of your life!
> Have. Enjoy. Oh, I’m having it,
>
> in lieu of alternatives,
> and it looks like lasting -
> here for the duration.
>
> Lasting takes time, I find.
> Still, I can spare the time -
> it’s all I’ve got.
>
> My garden’s fallen leaves
> I raked in
> from beneath bare trees.
>
> Each evening now
> I light the fire
> with the rakings.
>
> Like emptied files
> from a closed-down office
> they burn slowly and well
>
> to signal-less smoke
> and inscrutable ash,
> gratifying my nostrils.
>
> Then I burn sections
> I have sawn and split
> from former trees,
>
> slow to grow,
> slow to die,
> slow to burn.
>
> Everything runs down,
> yet with a little help
> garden renews itself.
>
> Finished with work
> I have made my will:
> cremation, of course;
>
> to my son, axe and saw;
> to my daughter, potting mix;
> to my wife, my urn.
>
> What’s left beside,
> tax office and bank
> expect to divide.
>
> Time treated me kindly,
> temperate climate,
> fertile soil, enough rain.
>
> Flowers and fruit,
> wine and meat;
> company better than deserved.
>
> Decent job and pay,
> the pleasures of leisure,
> a roof over my head.
>
> Holiday travel,
> safe return home,
> a warm shared bed.
>
> So far, so good...
> beyond? much to fear;
> but now is a lull.
>
>
>
>> On Mar 12, 2015, at 0:29, Patrick McManus <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
>>
>> Or both Andrew? :-)
>>
>> -----Original Message-----
>> From: Poetryetc: poetry and poetics [mailto:[log in to unmask]] On Behalf Of Andrew Burke
>> Sent: 12 March 2015 05:36
>> To: [log in to unmask]
>> Subject: Re: Retirement
>>
>> I recognise myself in this, so therefore I like it ... Is that valid criticism or pallid narcissism?
>>
>> Andrew
>>
>> On 12 March 2015 at 09:48, Patrick McManus <[log in to unmask]>
>> wrote:
>>
>>> Bill you will soon be oomphing again maybe
>>> oooooooooooophinggggggggggggggggggg!
>>> Cheers P
>>>
>>> -----Original Message-----
>>> From: Poetryetc: poetry and poetics [mailto:[log in to unmask]]
>>> On Behalf Of Bill Wootton
>>> Sent: 11 March 2015 22:17
>>> To: [log in to unmask]
>>> Subject: Re: Retirement
>>>
>>> Thanks, Doug and Pat. As you both say, a bit comic, a bit sad. Ran out
>>> of oomph this week.
>>>
>>> Bill
>>>
>>>
>>>>> On 12 Mar 2015, at 2:42 am, Douglas Barbour <[log in to unmask]>
>>>> wrote:
>>>>
>>>> Ah, to whom it this addressed, eh, Bill?
>>>>
>>>> Starts a bit comic & then?.
>>>>
>>>> Doug
>>>>> On Mar 10, 2015, at 3:29 PM, Bill Wootton
>>>>> <[log in to unmask]>
>>> wrote:
>>>>>
>>>>> Retirement
>>>>>
>>>>> He was born for this.
>>>>> Been retiring his whole life.
>>>>> Withdrawing from expectations,
>>>>> impositions.
>>>>>
>>>>> Not averse to company
>>>>> but reluctant to join,
>>>>> to step up.
>>>>> Content to kick back.
>>>>>
>>>>> Opportunities rarely seized,
>>>>> regrets unformed.
>>>>> Days open up just wide
>>>>> enough thank you.
>>>>>
>>>>> But then ...
>>>>> No, there is no
>>>>> but
>>>>> then.
>>>>>
>>>>> bw
>>>>
>>>> Douglas Barbour
>>>> [log in to unmask]
>>>>
>>>> Recent publications: (With Sheila E Murphy) Continuations &
>>>> Continuation
>>> 2 (UofAPress).
>>>> Recording Dates (Rubicon Press).
>>>>
>>>> There is no life that does not rise
>>>> melodic from scales of the marvelous.
>>>>
>>>> To which our grief refers.
>>>>
>>>> Robert Duncan.
>>
>>
>>
>> --
>> Andrew
>> http://hispirits.blogspot.com/
>> 'Undercover of Lightness'
>> http://walleahpress.com.au/recent-publications.html
>> 'Shikibu Shuffle'
>> http://abovegroundpress.blogspot.com.au/2012/03/new-from-aboveground-press-shikibu.html
>
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