The Last Parade

Here is why...No one explained it to

me at the time. When I was twenty,

thirty, in my forties and fifties, no one

bothered to inform me. I am partly to

blame, for either I neglected to ask,

or was too fearful to inquire...Why?

Indeed, up until the time I unwittingly

stumbled into my seventies, I gave it

very little thought if any. Why is it

when folks reach a certain age they

spend a good deal of time looking

not ahead, but behind? Well, I’ll tell

you, here is a reason why: Let’s say

your are now the drum major, and all

the music of your life is played, all the

stirring tones and sour notes, the entire

parade of your life falls in line behind

you. All your cherished memories are

there, even the missteps taken march to

the commemorative baton you waive.

And ahead, the parade of your lifetime is

inevitably scheduled to come to an end.

Everyone will disband and return to the

respective tombs from which they came.

And you, well you saw ahead to this day

from several blocks away. One lone snare

drummer beats a somber dirge for the very

last time as he turns and slowly walks away.

This is why when folks reach a certain age

they look behind as they take up the baton

and march forward, leading the way either

in glory or the bane of their very last parade.

Chris Hanch 3-6-18

The Ride

Think of all the near misses. Recall

those times your existence was in

peril? Harry Houdini made a living

from escaping bondage as he

cheated death again and again.

Oh yes, there are certain thrills in

defying the odds. The roller coaster

ride you’ve always wanted to try

could go off the rails at any time.

Yet, you continue to wait in line.

The man in front of you, the woman

just behind, have been squeamishly

biding their time. The bar is set.

Remember that sign, the one which

requires you to be a certain size in

order to ride. You sneaked around

it anyway while no one was paying

attention. Just this one time, you tell

yourself. You need to know how close

you can get before going over the

edge. No one can ever say you didn’t

try. It’s okay, you tell the skeptical

operator, you’re just a little small for

your age. He straps you in shaking his

head. Get ready, this is going to be

the ride of your life.

Chris Hanch 3-4-18

Preferences

I like chocolate. Lenticular is my favorite

cloud formation. Size twelve shoe has

proven to be a most comfortable fit for

my feet. I find blue is the color most

enticing to the eye. Automotively-speaking,

I could care less about make and model.

I’d gladly trade horsepower and speed

for a ride which performs reliably.

Ocean view over mountains is more

soothing to me. There is something

calming to be said about the rolling of

surf across a sandy beach. Give me a

Beethoven symphony on any given day.

And I love a good, Sousa, oompah march

leading the parade. You know I could sit

here all day making an extended list of

that which in this life appeals to me. I

would imagine that rather than have me go

on and on, you probably have better things

to do. I like those shoes you’re wearing…

What size best fits you?

I’m not crazy about that paisley shirt you’re

wearing, however, but that’s just me.

Chris Hanch 3-3-18

Verse to a Glorious Earth

Ah, Glorious Earth, I give you sight through

my eyes. All the splendor and misery I see,

the majesty and rock-hard stubbornness

of mountains, the rage of wave yet gentle-

ness of shoreline caressing seas. I hear your

refrain. Your rivers of vitality course through

me. I pay homage, give praise to your verdant

diversity. I bow down and comply with your

dynamic winds of change. History and destiny,

the elemental biology and geology of you flows

freely through my veins. Ah, Glorious Earth, I give

you precious sight through my eyes, surveying

the realm of imagined possibility. And bound

to your graces, sunken deeply into your tumul-

tuous mires, I shall, nonetheless, sail with you

as a minuscule speck of light in the dilated eye
of eternal universality.

Chris Hanch 3-2-18

Words for Yet Another Day

I thought I learned my lesson,

And still I awake each day —

So far…

Don’t look at me like that.

What else am I supposed to say?

If you're reading this today,
That makes the two us.

Chris Hanch 3-1-18

The Dream

Tell me that dream again, the one you had where
a tiger chased you bearing those long, sharp teeth.
It was hungry and needed to eat. It was your dream
and you were in it alone. What was the tiger supposed
to do? It was all about you and food.

Tell me again. I want to hear the best part when you
awoke abruptly in a cold sweet. Everyone has those
close calls when we’re suddenly snatched from the
jaws of death. In my dream it happened to be a rabid
baboon. It wasn’t hunger which launched him at me,
though, it was sheer, unadulterated rage. I could see
it in his  blood-red eyes.

I have pissed-off a lot of folks in my life, but this
was a case of being in the wrong place and time.
Talk about putting the fear of god in me. I’m going
to have to avoid spicy foods before bedtime. Too,
I’ve been considering not renewing my passport.

As for me, definitely no more visits to the primate
exhibit at the zoo.

Personally, I prefer the gazelles anyway. I haven’t
heard of anyone being chased by one of those either
while dreaming or awake. Anyway, I blame the
damn taco chips and salsa at midnight. That’s just
way too late.

Chris Hanch 2-27-18

Wealth as for Me

There are reasons why I am not

wealthy monetarily. And at my

matured age of seventy, things

such as this are highly unlikely

to change. Lazy? Oh, there has

been a liberal measure of that

along the way. Time off with

regularity, I believe, is the best

pay for the soul most any day.

Indeed, there are myriad reasons

I am not wealthy monetarily.

Mostly, I suppose, it is because

I would rather just sit where it

seems comfortablly appropriate

for me to be. At times, I may

enjoy striking up a conversation

with you, telling you my story or

listening while you tell me yours.

That pretty much sums it up—

As I see it, a fair trade between

you and me given and received,

no charge, absolutely free. Remind

me next time, and I’ll tell you about

my inherant proclivity for just being

outright lazy on my own.

Chris Hanch 2-26-18