"Retirement Time"

Who were you?
Forgotten
A split nano-second of fame
Way short of Warhol's
Predicted fifteen minutes.
But I still think of you
Whoever you were
Mr. Photographer.
Every time I walk by
'Your' Shell Building
On the South Bank.
A lifetime of work over
Retirement to come relaxing
In a field of clover,
But you had to tumble
Over your open balcony
Twenty five storeys up
While snapping that one last photo
Of your view over the river.
Maybe you had seen the future
Through the lens of life
And realised retirement
Wasn't all it's cracked up to be
Not able to face
A remaining lifetime
Of pipe and slippers
Eastbourne day trippers
And daytime after daytime
Mind numbing television
Vegetating until
Being lowered slowly
Into the ground.
So you took your own
Executive decision
To speed things up a little
Bypassing the lift
For that final
Pounding of the pavement
After work.
Accident, the coroner said
You didn't mean to be dead.
Which I think means he wasn't sure
If you meant to hit the floor.
At least he gave you the benefit of the doubt
To make sure your pension paid out.
At least my random thoughts
Mean you're not forgotten
I hope I'm not the only one
As that would be rather rotten.

Dulwich Poet 3rd July 2013

( On the South Bank there are old offices called the Shell Building, after the petrol company, who had their headquarters there. At the top is an open viewing gallery. A few years ago a man fell over the edge, while leaning over, taking some photographs of the view. He was retiring, his last day working there, he wanted the pictures as a memory of the place.)