A glass of wine nearby, he sat,
his spaniel beside him on the grass,
he flicked away a solitary wasp,
a buzzard circled overhead.
He watched both bird and insect
they were clearly to be seen,
unlike the predator within,
which lurked inside his bones.
Relaxed, he drank the wine,
a reminder of foreign climes,
snow slopes skied in Méribel,
boating trips on French canals.
Happy times, now long gone,
wine imbibed, creatures flown,
his empty glass caught the light
before the sun went down.
A Memory Of My Husband
The End Of The Day
Published by Family Friend Poems July 31, 2025 with permission of the Author.
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ABOUT THE POET:
Ann D. Stevenson only began writing after she retired, when she joined a Writing for Well-Being course. It was during a difficult time, as her husband had been diagnosed with terminal cancer. She found writing very therapeutic, more especially poetry. It was a real boost to her morale when Family Friend Poems began publishing her poems.
Ann...