Taking his leave.

All was quiet before the light was quenched

He only picked at his supper

Then, no one noticed his slow gait


The only remark passed was


Nice way to go though


They whispered as one voice


Not really knowing what to say.


He had packed his bag earlier.

It was a simple note he wrote

“The boat leaves early

I don’t want any fussing

I’m just not cut out for this farm work”


He said his goodbyes before boarding

There was now no turning back

He knew in his heart

it was not going to be an easy transition.

They were a very close knit family

who would not see the twisted pain in his face.

(c) Chris Black 2017.