The White-Tailed Eagle Opens Her Wide Wing Span
to an Endless Wind
across the sand, white
and cold as old seamen
walking widelegged down the stone fences
with tobacco yellow longfinger nails around the rake handles
and the mild weather
over the moors, red
as autumns of love around the villages of gravel
sudden arisals from smouldering beds
and subdued women’s voices
over the fjord, glacier blue
and tar burnt like sleep
quickly the shadow lurks like a worm
across the warm flat stones in the pile
(HAVØRNA FEMNER SITT BREIE SPENN OM EIN UENDELEG VIND from fluktlinjer 2000 translated into english by Veronika Bonaa)
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