Listless

Listless

I don’t have any strategy, I don’t have any plan—
no recipes for muffins, no plots to meet a man.
My life is so unstructured that I have nary a list.
With no clearcut tomorrow, my future’s in a mist.
If I were only twenty, I guess they’d call me fickle.
To be so directionless would land me in a pickle.
At seventy I’ve joined the list of lives that are expired.
I’m finally giving up and saying I’m fully retired!
My alarm clock’s in the cupboard––abandoned. I don’t need it.
I gifted this year’s calendar to someone who will heed it.
No meetings on my calendar. No notes upon my fridge.
I don’t attend aerobics. I gave up playing bridge.
How do I fill my life out now that I’ve come unwired?
Now that it’s gone unplotted and its furnace gone unfired?
I’m letting every day I meet just unwind and unravel.
Letting fate determine what pathway I will travel.
My compass needle disengaged, I’m floundering in “free—”
All things now determined by serendipity.

The prompt today is strategy.

15 thoughts on “Listless

    1. lifelessons Post author

      Hi Linda. I’ve been down with amoebas for last two days, feeling miserable..which perhaps had something to do with the theme of this poem. Yes, just maintaining health does get tiresome!!! Hope you are well on the mend.

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      Reply
  1. slmret

    Love this Judy — but I would take exception to the two lines I quote: “At seventy I’ve joined the list of lives that are expired.
    I’m finally giving up and saying I’m fully retired!” At seventy, you have a long way to go, and it should be a number of happy years!

    Like

    Reply

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