How do I feel

when my friends are shoveling snow

and here there is grass to grow?

And whether it grows fast or slow

it isn’t I who mows.


How do I feel

when many a friend is ill

and I am sort of healthy still

though I’ve signed my living will

and occasionally take a pill?



How do I feel

when the world is such a mess —

at least that’s what the news suggests

and I do nothing I must confess

and  I scarcely ever stress?


I surely feel quite fortunate

and I know I don’t deserve it.

I can’t figure it  out one little bit

that I’ve not been harder hit.

The blessings do not seem to fit.

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