Curmudgeon - by
He is a man for whom everyone’s a trespasser.
/ Co-existence? He doesn’t believe in it.
/ Give you the time of day? Not…
trust
In the Snack-bar - by
A cup capsizes along the formica,
/ slithering with a dull clatter.
/ A few heads turn in the crowded evening snack-bar.
/ An old man…
The Little Bird - by
One morning I got up
/ to pick oranges in the garden.
/ And I saw this.
/ I saw the rising sun
/ and the little bird
/ singing…
Thor Heyerdahls mor - by
Thor Heyerdahl, en traust
/ og stillferdig
/ nordmann, som tenkte
/ sitt og ville
/
/ finne
/ ut om det
/ stemte – så han bygde seg en flåte
/ av balsa
/
/ på de…
Opening the Hands between Here and Here - by
On the dark road, only the weight of the rope.
/ Yet the horse is there.
The Garmont of Gud Ladeis - by
Wald my gud lady lufe me best
/ And wirk eftir my will,
/ I suld ane garmond gudliest
/ Gar mak hir body till.
/
/ Of he…