When I’ve developed my last roll of film
I realized that last month was full of ‘family’ pictures from peaceful places
and I took them only when I really felt I’m resting.
I tried to remember all these breakfasts under the green roof and ladies’ talks in Maja’s kitchen.
I tried to remember how the little son of my friends is still… little.
With every day I am more thankful for everything what happens to me.
While trying to plumb what the void’s inner sense is,
I’m bound to pass by all these poppies and pansies.
What a loss when you think how much effort was spent
perfecting this petal, this pistil, this scent
for the one-time appearance, which is all they’re allowed,
so aloofly precise and so fragilely proud.’ W. Szymborska