more splash than silver
the sea’s surface leaps up
to the nightless night
so much hunger
rising
*
no stars, no moon
and still
no darkness—
here is a good place
to learn about longing
*
dark rye bread,
dark rye bread, hard boiled
egg and dark
rye bread dark
rye bread
*
swan in the inlet,
swan beside the fallen tree—
every swan
a swan
worth pausing for
*
running around
the same lake twice—
nothing else the same
*
alone outside
on a morning swing, the world
gets big again
*
top of the roller
coaster my reluctance
gapes at the bottom
*
in the square
a man squeezes his accordion
an old world tune
though I am still I feel
every cell waltzing
*
concourse Z
the young girl hides in the maze
from passport control
the hard silence falls
I do not keep the peace
*
driving under the sea
I try to think of anything but
driving under the sea
*
not expecting
the sweetness of the strawberry
the strawberry
tastes ten thousand times
sweeter
*
after weeks
without seeing stars I learn
to wish on the whole sky
A lovely photo album, but the dark rye bread poem, that’s a sign that you were truly away from home. Watched a film while you were gone and thought about your being there. Kitchen Stories. By a Norwegian filmmaker. You should see it if you haven’t. Welcome back.