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by Joan Pond
I’ve had it with this job,
my last day was the finest of the year.
I said goodbye to the boss
and tossed aside cares and woes.
Oh no,
not enough quarters for the meter.
Who cares?
I’m no longer meting time,
it’s mine for awhile.
I’ll bask in this abyss;
this abeyance.
They do say ignorance is bliss
and so here I shall remain.
Dear Libby,
I’m glad I’m not ‘there’.
Sincerely,
Your former employee.
Copyright © 1999 by Joan Pond, All rights reserved
Send private comments to author: boodles1@aol.com
Read the Poem Of Every So Often at http://www.artvilla.com