Still feeling trapped, <br />though the door is open, <br />I take my first steps on <br />a winter's morning. <br /> <br />Days lengthen now, <br />lighter afternoons beckon <br />as I venture to walk, <br />per chance to loiter <br /> <br />by shop windows. <br />It seems so long since <br />I had time <br />but now quaint boutiques <br /> <br />are my reward as I <br />enjoy the tranquillity <br />of not having to rush <br />back to a dusty desk. <br /> <br />I notice old ladies, <br />old men with sticks, <br />young women, some <br />on crutches. <br /> <br />Children too, <br />little tots, not yet <br />at school <br />toddle at mother's sides. <br /> <br />It's an alien world <br />and only time will tell <br />how I'll cope <br />but I know I will <br /> <br />and as I drive home <br />I think how lucky <br />I am to have <br />a pension.<br /><br />Ruth Walters<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-new-beginning-42/
