Time Misers--a new poem

[Marv Malone]

Our golden years these days are true lies--
closer to silver- bronze, yet no prize.
Settling for that, and seldom wiser
to spend fewer years a couch miser.
My tomorrows crawl and shrink
narrowed in a thousand blinks.
Minutes spent along railroad tracks,
red lights for all our years back.
Small pleasures pass yawning sighs
telling ourselves wishful lies.

Secret dreams and crushed up hopes
risked swimming high tide slopes
chances in life, green Bermuda,
would you go boldly nuda?
and march out when it's raining
wager time that's remaining,
but bring umbrella, fella!