It's Still Life

A Last Gasp Breath

I learned today that he died on Saturday. Liver cancer. He didn’t want to live in that soon-gone-body any more. Didn’t want those same wiry eyebrows that knitted together, a spiky caterpillar, when he frowned in pain. Didn’t want those same weak legs. Weak creaky knees that refused to hold his dying weight. Freedom from his eyes that watched skin stretch across his bones. Freedom from the heirloom watch that needed winding every day, as if that twist and twist and turn might give him more hours, more days. I was chopping onions when I heard the news. My eyes were already flooding tears.

flocked velvet flowers,
lily clouds, a squeeze of rain,
breathe, it’s only air.

 
 
dVerse Haibun Monday “Freedom“