Submitted by Fabrice B. Poussin
He had one wish left on his agenda
no bucket list, nor many dreams
perhaps just to die with peace around.
Sitting up one last time marveling at the rain
his soul slowly departed through his gaze
as he looked up to the gray realm infinite.
Letting go of the pain, restful at last,
well being penetrated from all facets
an invisible smile showed his readiness.
Breathing shallow, just a little tired,
slowly he slipped back under the covers at noon
it was almost complete on the ides of July.
He had just one wish left for the moment
to hear the church’s bell toll wildly as ever
and the children at the schoolyard be still in play.
About the Poet
Fabrice B. Poussin teaches French and English at Shorter University. Author of novels and poetry, his work has appeared in Kestrel, Symposium, The Chimes, and dozens of other magazines. His photography has been published in The Front Porch Review, the San Pedro River Review as well as other publications.