Feeling slightly out of place
on the road at 7:30 A.M.
Commuting no longer part of my world.
Meeting a friend for breakfast.
Anticipating a leisurely hour
or more of relaxed chatter.
No agenda in sight.
Passing the exit for the road
heading to the bridge and sites off Cape.
My old stomping ground.
A conga line of cars.
Drivers intent on making up time lost
by dallying behind buses
stopped at street corners
loading youngsters bound for school.
Life is less intense in retirement.
Things move at a slower pace.
Years of early starts in the classroom
too deeply intrenched for me
to be anything but a morning person.
But most days now begin
in the comfort of home
instead of behind the wheel of my car.