His Dying Breath

Short, metaphorical.

His Dying Breath

 

It washed up on the shore,

of his pale. parched, sunken tongue

and the tide stood still until, until

the undertow of wheezing lungs

belaboured, drew back air once more.

 

Air shared with shipwrecked hearts,

awash with the reverent dread

the drowning, fraught and overwrought

that cling around the bed.

And so his soul,

adrift,

departs.

Author's Note

Dedicated to Syd.

Reviews

[A. Amos]

Poigant and great tribute...sorry for your loss

[Alfred Kukitz]

I like the compactness. More said with less here. Always a difficult task.