That Final Hour
Yesterday, he was twenty-three, and time was like a horse
that wouldn’t break into a gallop no matter how many times
he yelled, “Gitty up!” Today, he is seventy-three, and there is
no stopping that horse from racing to the barn.
Although still very much alive, more so mentally than
physically, and although still gifted with a sense of humor
about life and whatever might come afterward, he finds in
himself of late an uneasiness that is most disturbing.
He recalls past relationships, reconsiders steps not taken,
and wonders if the final hour of his life will be one of despair
that ends with a whimper of regret or one of peace that ends
with anticipation of joys beyond the senses and reunion with
those remembered.
He fears the former is more likely with each recollection. Of
course, he prays for the latter but realizes it wouldn’t hurt for
him to do what he can in the time remaining to tilt the scales
a bit more in his favor.
Copyright © 2009 Frank Zahn. Published in The Criterion: An International Journal in English, Volume 15, Issue 5, October 2024, ISSN: 0976-8165, https://www.the-criterion.com/V15/n5/Frank.pdf.