Walks are
different these days of my old age.
I remember
the staggered drunken walks of
Careless days,
lopsidedly just trying to make
It home, the
jobless walks of shame, wonder-
ing, now
which way to go? I remember the ela-
ted hand-in-hand
walks two lovers used to take,
The
high-stepping struts of days I was sure I had
It made. I
remember those effortless smooth
Glides of my
youth, the seamless poetic steps
Taken in
stride, the fresh air of mind, and thank
God I’m alive!
How many walks in a lifetime have
Been made? And
my, how things have changed.
Oh, I
remember those days gone by. And now I
Am left with
only the painful limp of what remains,
Hopeful still
I can keep on step by step, and make
It once again all the way home.
Chris
Hanch 7-16-15
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