Friday, 18 May 2012

Another poem by Bjørn Aamodt



Howl

Today I earned 90 kroner polishing windows.
Roof sirens from the fjord, it’s snowing
heavy, wet flakes. Shoes
standing by the stove.

When I close my eyes I see the starry sky:

The Great Bear
on the way to its winter lair
or to other bears: oh yes

I have the occasional thought too, the clock ticks,
here people are a long way off,

40 years perhaps. After all, I often say
to myself, after all it is absence,

that colourless distance
that drives us together, time after time.

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