A Last Supper Poem by Deanna Samuels

A last supper,
yes, for one person, it really was a last supper.
Tomorrow would mark the end of a life -
a life of almost four score years and ten,
a productive, successful life,
a loved wife now gone,
children, grandchildren and great grandchildren.

That life had made a decision a little while ago,
wanted life to end -
the body breaking down.
Not wanting to go on,
not wanting to tackle final painful death throws.
Papers signed, a date declared - 12th August,
still a few months to go.

There we were, a small gathering,
a few very good friends and two closest family.
That life that had made such profound decision -
the time had come -
the morrow almost here
when life was to be extinguished.

Meeting for the last time,
a strange hushed atmosphere surrounded us
as though knowing, but not believing,
not wanting to bring the subject to the fore.
The life concerned was so composed,
completely cognizant of the fate that awaits.

Taking part in this last supper,
light dinner talk was made -
of old times, of family, of current careers.
Drinks were poured, meal orders served.
Food seemed tasteless, as cardboard,
difficult to swallow.

The supper, the last supper partaken,
a short while for reflections, past memories.
On leaving the table,
a moment to bid an easy journey.
Farewells outside the bistro.
Watched friend slowly disappear into the distance.


Written at Courtice, Ontario - 11th August 2022