The woman’s strenght

The woman's strenght

She turns around
as she closes the gate, and
for the last time she strokes
the lock with a rough hand
feeling the fear
that washes over her heart
like a furious sea.

She stares with bloodshot eyes
through the dark, cold window
of the lonely abandoned house
with the wear and tear of years
on its gray wall.

The smell of smoke from the stove
still lingers,
she can't let go
... Then a warm
firm hand lands on her shoulder
"the boat is waiting..."

With tears streaming down her cheeks,
pale and drawn, she looks up
"God help us"

Then she straightens up,
let go of the tight grip
around the gate
blood returns to her fingers.

She takes a deep breath,
leans down,
picks up her travel bag
wipes her sore eyes
turns around
and faces the future over the sea
right in the eye.

Berit Haga 
2006/2023