I will die alone
closed eyes remembering
how it felt when he
chose me to be the
girl he called each night.

dying alone with the wind
blowing maybe.

A fire might burn and
I hope there is someone I know
holding my hand or wiping my brow.

I will die alone, all these days,
these faded blue jean years,
brown boots dirt. Music soothing,
I hear Noah Gundersen singing my death.
He sways the tunes of woe,
I hope my death sounds like his song.