The Girl

This winter, when the world awaits the birth of Christ, she’ll be six.
All she knows is a loving father and a remote and unstable mother.
Also the trio is awaiting the another family member, a baby brother.

Then one day, near All Saints Day, everything shifts.
Fathers gone, first in the hospital. Everyone keeps a good face.
The girl is not allowed to visit. Then…

Chaos ensues.

Mother screams and cries.
Fathers gone, inexplicably gone.
The girl searches everywhere, to no avail.

She tries to comfort her mother with her favorite teddy.
– We shan’t cry anymore, mother says.
So the girl doesn’t.
Instead she helps pack boxes and haul their life away.
Mother keeps crying.

– You have to take care of your mother and coming baby brother, the Aunts say.
So the girl does.
Mother keeps her face on during the day. But at night she cries. 

The baby cries to, but the girl learns how to mix formula and bounce a baby.

You have to be a big girl now, everyone says.
So the girl figures out how; bills are paid, pension stretched beyond belief, food cooked, clothes cleaned, diapers changed, house cleaned, toddlers watched over. 

Mother still keeps her face on, but nobody’s home.
At night she cries, drink gin and tonic.

-Don’t tell anyone about this or they’ll take your brother away from us, her mother says.
So the girl keeps her mouth shut.

She’s barely eight, with the responsibility for a whole family on her shoulders.

Also posted to Saana’s prompt at Poets United: Midweek Motif ~ A Million Years Howl When Voices Whisper Among The Trees

All Hallows ~ Prosery 5

When the leaves fall.
Sorrow descends.
As light trickles out of the world.
Grief reappear.

The grass is still green, but crackles with hoarfrost as I walk over it.
Through the trees I see dark shapes moving, huddling together for comfort.
Candles flickering. Wreaths of offering and reminiscence.

The world smells like death and decay, rot and mold.
The fiery colours of autumn turning into every shade of earth and bones.
This is the barrenness of harvest or pestilence.
We only reap what we sow.

My soul heavy with love for lost ones.
My heart grateful for life, love.
My mind full of memories.
My feet heavy with the burden of death.

I kneel in the groove of remembrance.
Steady my heart.
Breath in.
Hold all that love, life, laugh in my hands.
Light the candle.
Send all that energy out into the universe.

Also posted to dVerse, Prosery 5 ~ All Hallows

Forest Queen

Illustration from Johan Egerkrans book - Nordiska Väsen
Illustration from Johan Egerkrans book – Nordiska Väsen

Dark bewildering forest
Cathedral of pine and fir

Deer and elk carry her
Squirrels run her errands
Foxes are her spies
Lynxes silent sentries
Bear-warriors her men at arms
Wolfs her honor guard

Respect the Queen of the Forest
Protect her trees
Care for all her animals
Give thanks for her bounty

And the woods will always be
A haven to those that know
The way of the forest Rå


Written for Sanaa’s prompt on Imaginary garden with real toads,
Weekend mini-challenge: Take a chance and step into the mythical realm.
Also posted to Poetry Pantry #498.


Skald in fuþark runes

In my quiver I carry
A ladle arrow to marry
An arrow of rose thorns
For those to be scorned
Of mistletoe a small dart
For those with fickle hearts
And last but not least
A javelin in pen shape
Bardic calling without escape


44 words for De Jackson’s prompt Quadrille #90 – We’re all a-quiver on dVerse.

Future Forgiveness

Illustration in the iconic article in Dagens Nyheter showing pH values in precipitation 1962. Data from the European Air Chemistry Network.

How will we ever find forgiveness from future generations?

Even I argue sometimes that people of the past actually didn’t know better, so we should not expect them to think like us.

But the signs that humanity is wrecking the planet-wide ecosystem have been around for decades now. There’s a reason a hundred and twenty countries signed an act to stop using chemicals that damage the ozone layer in 1987.

One of my first university classes, back in the last century, where a Geology course that taught me that the planet should be heading into a cool-down, a new Ice Age. (Such a daunting future.) But that geologist – people who only deal in impossibly long time spans – had started to see signs that humanity affected the climate in the opposite direction.

The acid rains that hurt Scandinavian forests during my childhood where due to sulphur being released into the atmosphere elsewhere on the continent.

Nature’s wonderful, magical, chaos-theory governed totality,
is a finely tuned system in balance.
Whenever or wherever we put our hands to destroy, pollute or eradicate
we leave wave after wave of effect. Wounds and scars.

There is still time to act…

Will we give future generations sufficient cause for forgiveness? 


For Susans prompt on Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Forgiveness.

Grey falls – twice

Grey falls
Sheets of rain
Driving wind
Wisps of fog
Leaves blow
Fire turned to mud
Do dawn
Days of gray

Grey falls
Ending of year
Driving wind
Coming of change
Leaves blow
Place for new growth
Do dawn
Dark Night of the Soul


I’ve had this thing rattling around in my head since the other day. I’m not totally sure if it is one or two poems. What do you think?

Posted to Poetry Pantry #497.

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