Once we are gone

When I think that once we are gone,
the curtains of the kitchen window
will still be hanging, undulating along
the sweet summer breeze,
it makes me want to sob and smile.

They’ll let the sound of child play
enter the rooms, one by one, and visit
a life that existed for many.
The cushions on the sofa
will be expecting a cuddle.

They’ll also invite the light inside.
It will shine on the golden mirror
that reflected for so long
the shared moments of joy,
of pain and of love.

When I think that once we are gone,
the doors will still be open to receive
and shelter sage hopes, I feel like
I could cry and laugh, but above all,
it makes me want to live.

Published in  Words on a Wire –September 2002