Nine
years have come and gone,
Still,
we struggle and push on.
First,
it was language we had to overcome,
When
English was not your native tongue.
And
then there was culture, so broad and vast.
We
had to bridge the Pacific step by step to last.
I
taught you how to drive and read a map.
You
taught me patience and to take a nap.
My
decline was obvious; yours so entwined.
So
full of doubt, mine more combined.
And
so we struggle, to reach that distant goal.
The
Grail of retirement, to save our soul.
When
we’ll have time to do what we want
And
money to spend on whatever we've not.
Two
steps forward, three steps back.
We
have no trouble getting what we lack.
We'll
just work harder, longer for sure,
Nine
years, times nine and more.
Copyright 2001 © Ronald W. Hull
10/14/01