The Death

a poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

As it envelopes me, with nothingness
I hear an echo of my protest.
Pull at the duvet with
Futile fingers try escape.
My vanishing sight can
See life’s light from
The open window and
My inner vision can see
A dale and a clear lake
Of stillness.
In the mirror of the lake
I can see mother’s face!
‘Hush, my son,’ she says.