Bruce Bennett

A Good Death

He sat upon a deck chair staring out.
The sea was calm. His wife had just gone in.
Perhaps he thought of places they had been.
Now they were going home at last. No doubt,
the trip had been successful. They had seen
their children, and a grandchild, maybe two,
they had not seen before, and in between
they’d spent some time at places that were new.

Now all that was behind them. Time to rest,
slip back into routine, and just enjoy.
The wind had risen slightly, and his chest
felt odd, but he would not let that annoy
him as he drowsed upon the rolling deep
that rocked and cradled as he fell asleep.