He lived a humble life alone…a niece or a nephew here and there brought sunshine to his life…his offspring found no time, nor care to watch the sunset by his side. Before he reached this tranquil life, he’d tested his boundaries, stretching the elastics of addictions. Too many “last calls” and rolling dice and flirting reckonings from the meanest loan sharks. Like a cat, he had at least eight lives.
After umpteenth losses, he faced illness and disability, rooming in the most modest abode…a small room among others slightly different yet much the same; not in any kind of bed and breakfast, yet three fixed meals a day.
rags to riches
unrequited love
to borrowed rags.
Last week, he went for a stroll. Waiting at the corner for the light to change, he steps down the curb leaning on his cane, minding his own business like he’s done all his life…
unforeseen
meeting his maker
with a BANG
smell of burnt rubber
wail of niece and nephew
maman et papa
sisters and big brothers
show the way
most unusual racetrack
with perpetual winnings
This is in honour of my uncle, after hearing the news I received today about his sudden death …my mother’s brother.
Written for Micro Poetry Month #24
Daily moments paradise beyond November 24 2017
Tournesol dans un Jardin 
I’m sorry for your loss– this is a nice, and unique memorial !
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He certainly was unique…loved to laugh and now he’s making my mom smile:)
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You wrote him a memorable piece, C-L !
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Thanks
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sorry for your loss.. what a life he’s led.. and what an intriguing story in your tribute. Thanks for sharing with Micropoetry Month!!!
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Thanks, Rajani.
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I am deeply sorry about your loss, you are in our prayers.
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Thank you for your kind thoughts.
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I’m so sorry for your loss. You’ve written him a poignant tribute!
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thanks so much, Frank, for your kind words and reblogging….in memory of Patrick
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Reblogged this on Frank J. Tassone and commented:
#Haiku Happenings #4: Tournesol memorializes her uncle in this #haibun.
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I am so touched by your comments and reblog, Frank. Thank you so much.
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May you feel the love and comfort of friends in each word you read.
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Thank you, Janice. I woke today thinking about his spaghetti sauce…ah, gee, I didn’t or write about that but there are more days and more poems to write as I remember him.. He loved my sister and me so much. Since we were raised by our grandmother and mother, some of our uncles felt more like big brothers. I feel bad I had not seen him in a long time. He’s with Mom now and he is probably teasing her and making her laugh.
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