how does it feel,
to see your friends die next to you
and your husband too?
until you’re the only oak
in a field of daffodils.
how does it feel,
to see death visiting,
knocking on the neighbour’s door
and knowing yours is second?
how does it feel,
to ask for help so often,
in a world that you´ve lived longer in
than any of your children?
how does it feel,
to see your children´s children blooming,
and doing things you never could?
how does it feel,
to live inside a house
that´s filled with your voice only,
for years and decades, now?
how does it feel,
to know you´ll not come home again?
how does it feel,
to know, you won´t see me again
or what I will become?
how does it feel?
and how did you manage to stay so damn happy
through all of that?