Å

Å

Nights in a rorbuer amid
a disturbance of aquavit.
The sun dances a circle
with horizon.  A disregard of
words, a murmur of other
places.  Cod cruise the maelstrom,
too deep to be tempted. 
Fjords, sun crumbling in fog.
Seagulls as kites,
daring the atmosphere.  Poetry
perhaps, by strangers where
the world is a different place.
A thousand words?  No dear, just
this — a thousand small
memories from one word.