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