Triumph

2 Comments

Triumph

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

04-29-2010

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

simoneaugustus

04/29/2010

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

Troy commented on Triumph

04-20-2010

the secreny descrpition is wonderfull , so sad yet very lovly

A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

simoneaugustus’s Poems (69)

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Neglect 8
Dancing Gypsy 7
Inspiration (Haiku) 4
Seasonal Shift 5
Listen Closely 10
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Misbehaving 14
1,000 Words 10
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Triumph 2
Childhood to Adulthood 3
New Kind of Love 4
Future 4
Unhealthy Love 3
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Never Again 3
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Glimpse of Frustration 1
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Local Dive 2
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Surrender 2
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Rediscovered Love at a Diner 2
My Addiction 3
Emotional State 1
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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
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