Norse Triptych / Benjamin Rozonoyer
Here you are —
clear northern night, the stars, Valhalla,
why howl?
If you are a fjord,
lie flat.
* * *
Dormant oracles
Whisper insipidly
Sordid ordinances
Of dismal misery…
Came the candle
Travel-weary,
Winter-worsted,
Hinter-haunted.
Crashing rafters
Sparking crimson
Crosswise spattered;
Stenching smoldered.
Deadly dancing
Dusk to dawn
In laughing woodhalls
Fire feasted.
Red the sky-reave
Raven circles:
Moon diminished,
Sun extinguished.
* * *
I ponder on what the skaldic Icelandic
poet once said;
it glimmers as one tragic and heraldic
baldness of head.
Norse Triptych: Copyright 2022 by Benjamin Rozonoyer. All rights reserved.
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