The Days Were Few and Happy

A deep and heartfelt piece by my good friend Alfred…

Beyond Panic

The struggle to breathe

grows harder and laborious,

and soon, not worth the effort.

The heartbeat softens to a

padded thudding

of arrhythmic improvisation

The light, both sun and lamp alike,

grows dim

And the features

of your faces

so familiar

are now only

sketches in sepia

drawn by rheum,

inked in cataract,

and blindness creeps with

a serpent’s crafty slowness

to seize small sight

in its unrelenting

coils of darkness

But the memories

of grand carnivals,

of dire hurricanes,

laughter, tears

prizes, penalties

trials, victories

unity, dysfunction

safety , strife

holiday dinners

and birthday songs

pride and humility

for good or ill

all said and done

except the last


and  giving the last remnants

of my love

The days were few and happy,

and the honor of growing

beside you

made it all


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3 Comments Add yours

  1. Beautiful. Thank you for sharing.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. noelleg44 says:

    Wonderful and touching!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Isn’t it, Noelle


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