retiring pressure

Where is peace in solitude?
Where is the travel, the joy?
The neat and tidy?

I can't find it in dark, worrying.
promises each night,
then each morning,
then after I water, check my phone, sew, craft, read, rest, pick up the remote.

Household promises left undone.

Ow, muscles tense, ache, grow weak.
Thinking slows, time draws long into dusk.

Work?
But nothing seems doable to an old woman.

So I rest.
after I water,
after computer,
after sewing,
after pens and glue,
after reading,
after rest.

Appreciation for those little ones saves that day, then I rest again.

64

doing nothing?
I'm told it is my prerogative. 

I got a tiny, syrupy taste of grace,
doing nothing for freedom's sake.

shame hardens like old frosting.
fear cuts a big piece out of birthday cake.

who will pay our day to day?
someone says he will, spouts numbers,
pleased with investments in Wall Street.

Doctor for 20.
Rx for 10.
1500 or more extra

House in 7 yrs 
except to insure

AARP:
"Social Security prevents starved, homeless,
not all of it."

In my head scary scenes wind up into stringy, random balls of yarn 
until the room is filled.
becomeing heavy,
matted weight gathering light til it's dark.
I'm mashed.
each day.
yearning for sweets.