These Last Days

These last days count for something.

You reach a certain age when the future is

irrelevant, and hope, well hope only applies

to today.

Not to sound a sour note, but for all they

are worth, these last days count for something.

No need to hurry, no need to build or buy

more than is essential right now.

No more saving for a rainy day.

You are in dry arid country now, having it made

in the shade.

And still, these last days count for something.

Think back tp how it used to be, worried

about health, wealth and what will become

of you when you reach old age?

Through thick and thin, famine and feast,

you got here anyway, didn’t you?

No turning back, no need to know what lies

beyond the horizon of today.

I was given one more day when I rose this morning.

And today, coffee in the morning, bologna

and chips for lunch, chicken casserole for

dinner, reading and writing, and a nap to

plug the gaps in between.

The news at 10 o’clock to see if the world

is still spinning on its axis, a glass of milk,

and a cookie and then hit the hay.

And then perhaps tomorrow rises, come what may.

These last days count for something, my friend.

Lord knows, I can still wiggle my fingers and toes.

I may just skip the news and retire at 9:30 instead.

                              -30-

Chris Hanch 7-9-2020