It is the old man, me, you see.
Not the young, strapping man
I used to be. Still a smoker,
though, beard and long locks,
you know, yet another poem
to flow. Even the all stars lose
a step or two over time. I’ll
end this piece of mine with
a pithy rhyme as I limp lop-
sided ever closer toward the
finish line, stiff and pained
in body with slippage of mind.
-30-
Chris Hanch 2-8-2023
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