After a long working life, the father
retires;
the mother, who supported him all those
years, now faces a new reality—
endless days together at home.
What was supposed to be freedom feels
strangely suffocating.
At the threshold of old age, the couple
fumbles, misaligns,
and sometimes feels they must “run away” just to breathe.
This poem portrays the awkward
tenderness of that transition.
The Kansai phrase “nigenakya akan” (“you’ve got to escape”) carries not blame,
but a practical wisdom: sometimes
distance is what keeps closeness alive.
“We’ve Gotta Get
Away”
Father retired.
He threw off his shackles, tossed away his
tie,
declared he’d
finally do what he liked.
Father, now a free man.
Mother, not so free.
Father never misses his three meals.
Mother is bound to preparing those three
meals.
Father heads out to golf.
Mother rushes off to her salon.
Father and mother glare at each other.
First time ever staying home together all day.
Their rhythms don’t
quite match.
Father and mother feel troubled.
Even together, they are awkward—
a couple who seem to know each other, yet
do not.
Stifled, they slip out of the house.
Father blows off steam on the golf course.
Mother vents her complaints at the salon.
Father and mother, they gotta get away.
When tension rises, the air turns solid.
Retirement life has just begun.
Father and mother, they’ve gotta get away.
No need to rush—only to grow accustomed.
There’s plenty of
time to understand each other.
Father and mother—yet they can’t only run away.
Perhaps learning to say “it can’t be helped”
matters too.
Still, they must never throw away their
places of escape.