A thin low-lying mist is sneaking

between the nearly bare trees. 

The brightly colored leaves

decorating the ground

are still slick from the morning dew,

causing a few to stick my worn hiking boots. 

A large bird screeches overhead,

calling to its unseen brethren.

I close my eyes and breathe deeply,

pulling in the chilled air,
feeling the slight breeze on my stubbled face.

Eyes still closed, I turn my focus to my other senses; 

that unmistakable earthy smell

of soil and foliage,

and somewhere nearby

I can hear a stream gushing. 

A few crickets have begun their morning song. 

The breeze causes the remaining leaves to

rustle gently against the rough bark of the trees.

A pleasantly overwhelming nostalgia rushes in
and fills my body with instant serenity.

I open my eyes. 

Even the grayness of the day cannot detract

from the profound beauty of these woods.

As I set my backpack down,

I smile to myself. 

I kneel unevenly on the damp ground

and open the dingy pack,

removing the gun carefully. 

A small frog is startled by my movement

and hops deeper into the weeds.

I grin broadly as I hear

all of the wonderful orchestra of nature

surrounding me. 

I load the single bullet

and flip the safety off.

Oh, how jealous they will be! 

When they discover I took my last breath,

they will know it was freedom!

I refuse to die

smelling disinfectants and floor wax. 

I don’t want my last glimpse of light

to be a flickering fluorescent. 

I refuse to die
in that ‘retirement village';
all alone, surrounded by strangers.

I will choose my time, my place.

And it is so beautiful it hurts. 

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Rhymer commented on Triumph


An incredible write, such a great job of building upon the serenity of the forest, leading the reader into a state of bliss and suddenly realizing an individual has picked this moment, place, and time to end their life. I actually had cold chills 10



Thank you so much for the warm comments; it means so much to me!

Troy commented on Triumph


the secreny descrpition is wonderfull , so sad yet very lovly

Poetry is what is lost in translation.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

simoneaugustus’s Poems (69)

Title Comments
Title Comments
Ruinous POV 5
Recipe For Making a Wish 6
Who's Calling, Please? 3
Neck Tied 5
A Good Man, Regardless 3
Courage Can Take Many Forms 7
Forgetting You 9
Beste Freundin (Best Friend) 4
Planted 11
Scared Silly 13
Brown’s Junction 4
’84 Super Glide, Candy Apple Red 4
Near-Love Experience 5
Imagination SOS 9
Toppled Throne of Peace 11
My New Path 5
Dreams For Sale (compilation of series) 9
Winter Bides Her Time 47
Outpatient (Triolet, Balladeer's class) 5
Appointment 7
Won’t You Be My Neighbor? (poem 4, Balladeer’s quatern) 6
Just a Dream 8
Neglect 8
Dancing Gypsy 7
Inspiration (Haiku) 4
Seasonal Shift 5
Listen Closely 10
Burning Desire 8
Misbehaving 14
1,000 Words 10
Jack and Jill 6
Triumph 2
Childhood to Adulthood 3
New Kind of Love 4
Future 4
Unhealthy Love 3
‘Tis Better to Give Than to Receive 2
Daughter Dear 7
Never Again 3
tic Cruelty
Whispered Promise 2
After All 7
Nature's Office 6
My Very Own Disease 10
Collection of Haiku 3
The Rise of Hope 4
Glimpse of Frustration 1
Decisions, Decisions 2
Local Dive 2
Dare to Control Me 2
Surrender 2
My Strength 2
Rediscovered Love at a Diner 2
My Addiction 3
Emotional State 1
Divulging Secrets 1
Unwed Mother 2
Marvelous Sensations 2
Woman Child 1
Grace LeeAnn 1
Left Field 2
Fountain of Experience 1
The Illusion of Control 2
Love/Hate Relationship 3
Who's Afraid of the Big, Bad 'D'? 1
Lie is Central to BeLIEve 1
The Unchanged Core 3
Hammering Kindness 2
Loneliness 4