Sic Transit, a poem by Ian Fletcher at
Daria Kraplak

Sic Transit

Sic Transit

written by: Ian Fletcher


He was the doyen
of the faculty,
its brilliant professor
with his dazzling wit
and those soirées
in which the wine flowed
and his affairs began.

Then everything changed
when he was diagnosed
with a terminal disease.
“Five years at most,”
his doctors said.

He decided to rage
against the dying
of the light,
spending his days
and nights
composing a volume
of belles-lettres
that would guarantee
a kind of immortality.

He finished a month
before he died,
knowing they’d be
published posthumously.

Forty years later,
for some reason
he comes to mind
and on a whim
I look him up
on Amazon.

There’s the book:
cover image
“Out of print”
used copies going
for less than
the price of postage
“In good condition.

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