It's warm on the journey to South Arm. I pass many waterways 
that we often kayaked together. I stop at the cliffs and view the 
lookout towards Wedge Island.


fog lifts -
a sea eagle
circles the blue


I travel the last few kilometres to his seaside house. I want very 
much to see him again but I know it will not be pleasant. I greet 
his partner. We talk for a while then move towards his bedroom 
where he is sleeping.


his wasted body
a face in the mirror
I do not know


As the shock of his gaunt appearance wears off slightly I listen to my
instructions on how to care for him to give his partner some respite.


the medication
to keep him comfortable
she leaves me alone


He drifts off to sleep. I watch over this man I have called my friend for 
so long now. Outside dogs bark and the birds reply, the sounds of living 
seep into the house.


your breath
sounds harder 
my friend


I hear him call and my mind says a thousand things as I struggle just to 
stay present and let the moment unfold, I want only to make his last
hours peaceful.


waking up dry
over morphine clouds
he tries to talk


breaking ice
to quench his thirst
it shatters across the bench


He settles at last. I read my book but the lines fade into dark thoughts. 
So, I sit and try to contemplate our good times in silence.


while he sleeps
I watch the sun's path
across the carpet


The sound of a car. My time with him is coming to an end. Wanting to
say so many things, but knowing just to be there is enough.


she returns home
every moment now
a lifetime


She checks on him and I follow to help, hoping to catch a word from his
dry, cracked lips.


in love's care
I watch them together
as one


Time to go. He wakes and with all his strength gives me a warm smile.
With a failing voice he wishes I did not see him like this and urges 
me to go.


shaking his hand
in those blue eyes
our last time


I hug him
but he is almost gone
no body left


I say goodbye to her and we talk of practical things for the approaching
funeral. She breaks down, talking this way of the dying man as he sleeps,
and the first tears flow.


feeling relief
to be in the sun
and with the living


I go to his favourite place and park amongst flowering gum trees. 
The cool sea breeze, or is it his dying? sends a shiver down my back.


I walk the beach
hoping to arrive somehow
together


on wet sand
the crab's skeleton
reaches out to sea


The next day, having mourned him many times, the phone call comes.
There is a great feeling of relief that he is suffering no more in 
that half way place where he has been. He has moved on and so must I.


day of the funeral
in a moments silence
a seagull circles


It's a few days later and she calls me on the phone. She tells me his
ashes have been scattered over the sea, the place he loved the most. 
I put down the phone. It comes to me that my best friends death has
bought me more fully into my life.


a lone paddler
heads out to open sea
no sound . . .



haibun and illustration
 by
Ron Moss 


'Last Visit' won first prize for haibun in Yellow Moon's International 
 Seed Pearls Competition August 2002  judged by Janice M Bostok, 
 and was published in Yellow Moon magazine Issue 12, Summer 2002.'



See More of Ron's Works
in the November 2002 
World Haiku Review

&
send him



return to 
The Haiku Poets Hut




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