“The house is full of cards and flowers.
On the dinner table, the tv-stand, the kitchen counter.
The cards are taped to the door.
You don’t get to see them,
but they all mention you.

The house is full of flowers.
Big ones and small ones.
They bloom now that spring’s here.
All different colours and shapes.
You can’t smell them anymore.

Your picture is on the shelf.
A radiant smile against the grey.
You’re with them again.

The house is full of flowers and cards.
All addressed to me,
while they’re meant for you.”

A.V.

“When I die,
return me to nature.
I don’t want to be in a wooden hug,
that’s as dead as I’ll be.
I want my hands gripping grass,
and my lungs filling with dirt.

Don’t give me flowers,
if they’re not planted
on my last blanket.

One day I’ll die,
until then, I’ll enjoy
every second of being.”

A.V.

“I am in the room again.
Heavy heaves come from the machine,
that help make perfect breaths.
Your voice is soft, your hands are warm,
and I see less life than yesterday.
Tears come from my parents eyes and I
I can’t cry.
Yes, my voice is blocked and my eyes burn
But I can’t cry.

Your world isn’t bigger than this tiny room.
The sun won’t shine on your face again.

Your kids are here.
They all came to see you.
It hurts to see them say
goodbye while you sleep.
I can only watch.
I try to put on a brave face.
I still can’t cry.

Tears don’t come to say
how much I miss you already.”

A.V.

“If the stars had been aligned,
I would’ve known.
I would’ve felt it in my bones,
and seen it in your eyes.

If the poem had been written,
the title would be lost.
The line would have been crossed,
My heart be long since stricken.

Darling, I have to tell you something,
or my head might explode, give out.
It’d shatter my heart, my feelings.

Words are not enough, my dear.
No language has the answer.
But the way you make me feel is clear,
A poet and a dancer.”

A.V.