Poetry: First Day of Retirement

First Day of Retirement

The panicked whine of a chain saw

Rips through my black morning coffee

At 8:07.

I turn on the radio

For the latest traffic jams.

Bay Bridge backup to the Maze,

Looks good from an oversized chair.

At 8:12

I replay how a red-shouldered hawk swoops down

For the remains of a discarded sandwich

In the parking lot of the Carmel Mission,

This new thought replacing the agony of a commute.

At 8:15 I go outside with my camera

To wait for a painted lady

To land on a cosmos.

Tomorrow,

 I will put away the clock.

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