top of page

"At the End" by Gareth Greer

With each straining breath, a part of him is lost,

carried from his dying body, infusing in the molecules of the air around us.

His face changes as his soul departs.

A pallid hue drapes his cold dried skin,

droplets of a final tear teeter at the corner of his closing eyes.

He said he was scared; In his voice I heard him as a small boy.

Long slow breaths, peaceful now,

outside the rain thunders against the ground.

Holding his hand, hoping for a final gentle squeeze,

now silence, soon broken by the sobs of my siblings.

Gareth Greer, Magherafelt, N.I. Husband & Dad first, poet & author second. Somedays good at both, other days not!! Waiting for a bestseller to bubble to the surface, and then retiring to somewhere warm and remote.

bottom of page