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retirement poem

a little peach in the orchard grew
leave the lovely words unsaid
sweet and strong
beneath my window in a city street
tell me less or tell me more
see, they return
in their ragged regimentals
stay no more
winged shadows sweeping by
on and on
sitting in his rocker waiting for your tea
in new york harbor
i said, i have shut my heart
i fill this cup

 



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