Given
my age—seven decades plus three years,
given
my condition—worn out limbs, and wobbly
afoot,
given the long, wobbly and tiresome way negotiated
to
get here, given the souring of attitude and blurriness
of
vision, given senses of taste, smell and hearing
reduced
and impaired, and recall of memory reduced
to
a snail’s pace, given pained, grimaced and furrowed conditioning
of
face, I still somehow manage to get about, albeit unsteadily, from
one
room to the other with the assist of my cane.
And
given today as opposed to yesterday, knowing that there
is
no longer room for improvement, I am gratified and
encouraged
if I notice very little change.
So,
I dare say to myself, don’t peer into the mirror. That
other
son of bitch staring back at you shall likely disagree
with
your hypothetically generous evaluation.
-30-
Chris
Hanch 4-30-2020
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