You left, as all do
but you went gently. You 
did not rage, that was 
out of your system, spilled 
onto your family through 
the years. You smoothed 
and mellowed. It was almost 

sudden. Your calm, brown 
eyes shimmering, happy, 
content resting, not needing 
to move, no hurry 
distracting you from mere 
being. Your gentling more 
than simply the nudge

of nascent dementia.
Prickly edges dulled, 
worn tired, softened until 
you could slip into that good 
night, or, as it happened, 
late afternoon when you
set out toward
everlasting day.