Posted by jan oskar hansen on March 18, 2011 at 7:25 AM

The Continuation

It is night they have all gone to bed, since I’m old and sleep little

my job is to keep the ember alive in the stove, add a piece of wood

now and then. My granddad used to do that keeping the flames

alive, so when the young got up the rooms wouldn’t be too cold.

I sit in darkness but see through curtains snow falling adding to

millions of other snowflakes, I know the children will be exited,

the adults less so. For me it doesn’t matter, but I haven’t forgotten

the pleasure of a snowy landscape. It is odd, me godless man, feel

an inner peace, everything that has happened fits together I have

meet my ghosts; nothing scares me anymore except rumours of

a new war. As a child I knew war and all its brutality, I was hoping

my grandchildren would be spared. I’m nearly falling asleep but my

granddad awakes me, whispers about my obligations, I add a piece

of wood to the fire and dream of yesteryear.

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