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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required My Neck Is Red, My Arms Are Tan By Rick Rucker My neck is red, my arms are tan, I was, not long ago, a working man, I retired, some weeks ago, The Sun comes up, I have no place to go, My Love is still asleep, So, very quiet I must keep, And now, the light sweeps across the room, Deathly still, much like a tomb, I should be in my car, Fighting others, driving far, I now start the coffee pot, Soon, it will yield that beverage, hot, All past mornings, at this hour, I would have exited from the shower, And had something small to eat, And planned my day, complete, Now, all I do, is to mutter, Knowing that all I will do is putter, My chores do not fill one hour of morning, That seems to be an ominous warning, At work, I would do this and that, Now, I spend the morning like the cat, I spice up my rest with naps, Practicing for when they play me Taps, Perhaps I will learn to embrace the morn, Happy, again that a new day is born, That is, of course, a hunch, But now, it just seems a delay ‘til lunch! You may think me daft, But, now that I no longer ply my craft, The dawning of the day, Takes more of my Pride away! 8/6/2012
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