A Feeling

I don’t feel like singing, and even if I

could, I don’t feel like dancing either.

I don’t feel like cooking or counting the

eggs which are remaining in the fridge.

I don’t feel like standing or sitting, or

even choosing one or the other. Lying

down doesn't seem a reasonable

option for me.

I don’t feel like trimming my beard

although I’m looking pretty shabby.

I don’t feel up or down. It would be

a falsehood to say I’m feeling fair to

middling.

I don’t feel like watching TV, listening

to music or reading or writing either.

I don’t feel like taking a trip to Florida

or Alaska. I must say, I’m not feeling

all that good about the State of Missouri

I’m in right now.

I’m not feeling sad or angry, neither lost nor

found. Ever feel that way some days like

something, but you’re not quite sure what?

Why, even the chronic pain I’m in doesn’t

feel quite the same. I’m not dead yet. I do

feel that in all likelihood I’ll make it through

another day.

Wondering, however, at seventy-three if

I’ll feel pretty much the same when seventy

four rolls around. Chances are more than

likely not.

Right now, though, I feel feeless if you know

what I’m saying. I know it’s Sunday, but it

feels more like a Monday to me.

                          -30-

Chris Hanch 7-28-2020