Finger hook pointing you
homo and boko and that
trees de-bought and we
well, I’m disappointed too
I rather not see you more
so don’t appear in my light
house, eyes to the side
how did you get on my crag
the seas surely should
don’t stay long on here
on the berg my resolve
with the must of the same.
Andreas Dahl
on the night of each year
the miller would sit with
his quern-stone
hoary, and rolling on rynd,
it always names him the river;
quondam! river dust!
but, on this night, with the stone
in quiet repose; its aye,
its anything, every
for it can’t be tomorrow, when
water again must engage the burr,
and new, and past, returns
Andreas Dahl 2013