The Wake

They were all there - my three boys, the ones that I'd left like discarded toys, they all asked an empty space - 'Why?' there was no answer left when you die. I'd rehearsed the conversation many times, but now I'd never have the chance to try, gone off into the sunset, free as a bird, three mothers would love to have the last word. But they didn't, there was me hiding behind a tree, the old funeral joke looking at the mystery, I hear you, it's not a joke - it's bloody serious, are you telling all that you left because of us? No, I left because I was required to do so, by God, providence and unstoppable powers.