Obituary

"I'm just popping out for the papers", 
he always used to say,
"I won't be too long, so try to be strong", 
he'd laugh, "whilst I am away".
Part of the ritual, the daily round 
of retirements humdrum existence,
but comforting in its familiarity, 
and enfolding in its consistence.
An aneurism they called it, 
like a blockage inside a drain,
exacerbated by his running 
to try to escape from the rain.
Some mornings now, I have to admit, 
I get an attack of the vapours,
when I look at his chair, but then I think, 
he's just popped out for the papers.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

Poem

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