Ruhestand

[Benjamin]

Sunday at sea---

a time for simple tasks and quiet thoughts.

Of wondering where the time goes,

or if my letters ever will be read.

White-caps remind me of the sheep at home:

curious creatures, vulnerable, benign;

whose garb of life is queried, by my knack

of weaving words into sack cloth shirts

that would scratch a soul to death...

Should Sunday last forever

and other days be gone.

[fdelano]

Reminds me of the writings of Patrick O'Brian. I still have the whole series. I should have been a sailor, but an officer for sure. I think your "Sunday at Sea" is at home in an easy chair. Good muse item.

[Benjamin]

Thanks Franklin. I was going to call the poem “Retirement” but noticed you'd already posted a poem using that title. So I thought I'd be smart-ass and use the German word instead. The imagery comes from things that have crossed my mind recently; also, memories of another life and reading Dana's “Two Years Before The Mast” The harshness of life contrasting with a Sunday at sea. The inevitability of retirement--- frustration and the futility of analysing life with hindsight.

[David W. Parsley]

I like the way you handle this view of the penultimate sabbatical, Benjamin. (Sunday, day of rest: nice touch.) I take particular pleasure in following the comparision between the tossed whitecaps and the "vulnerable" sheep to whom things just happen.

 

- Dave

[tonyv]

I see more than retirement from employment in this. I'm stuck here:

 

Should Sunday last forever

and other days be gone.

There's so much in these two lines alone; it could be good or bad. I often think I'm there.

 

Tony