In retrospect, sitting on my frontporch in the swing,
Resigned to the fact, accepting my fate.
Not far away from the Happy Hunting Ground.
The hereafter, Azrael and Charon approaching.
A dying candle lighting the flame of another.
Then I see Tommy, who stole my crayons in the 1st grade.
He passed away years ago from leukemia.
The ant stealing crumbs from my BLT on the daystand.
In my pasture, Rebel, my prized stallion.
Then I see Jude, who always got all the pretty women.
He died 10 years ago in a car wreck.
Floating gently in the summer breeze, a butterfly.
Landing on my shoulder, nibbling my shirt, pulling me closer,
Agnes, my wife, who passed away last summer.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem