Rush hour in Havstenssund. The autumn evening shadow gently cover the houses, as the sun sets behind the cliffs. The little village prepare for the winter. Lobster fishermen moor their boats in the harbor. There is a chilly wind but in the street it is calm, sheltered by the houses and the white fences. Take a left to the gorge or go straight down to the harbor. Smell the fresh salted wind and listen to the boats tough by. Feel alive.
Breath in breath out, ha de Gött!
Sometimes you don’t see the forest for all the trees.
Don’t get tangled up, ha de Gött!
There is a winding road. Winding along the forest.
Winding from here to there. A winding to the unknown.
From past time winding history. Till today’s winding reality.
News winding way to milk pallet. Mailman winding a letter down the box.
Wireless connection, pling in phone. Countryside winding down.
Know the past to dare explore, ha de Gött!
Colorful thick for winter cold days.
Soft rustling, smelling of chilly fresh October rain.
Still wind quilts autumn cover for Mother Earth.
King Frost wait around the bend.
Keep warm, hug your loved ones, ha de Gött!
Just resting on the way down. Even the sharpest juniper spikes offers a resting place. Waiting for that gust, that gust of wind for the final journey.
Have a lovely weekend, ha de Gött!
along meadows and fields pulling cutting deep in rich soil plowing sturdy and strong the red tractor seagulls land like snowflakes feast new over old fade to brown turning
Promted by a comment from John Malone to my tractor post. In relation to ‘William Carlos Williams’ poem ‘The Red Wheelbarrow’ I made this humble attempt to a ‘red tractor poem’.
What red things do you like to have a poem written to? Ha de Gött!
Handle never pressed to friendly welcome open slammed shut in anger opened gently to say sorry Handle never pressed slowly, by tiny children's hands, night before Christmas to lock teenager out after first taste of freedom to squeak after boys night out Verdigris green and rusted, left out under the blue sky Not a single time open, but never ever closed
Found this handle at the house never built that I wrote of a year ago, find it here.
Handle life with care, ha de Gött!
Pearls of water, in water
Renewal, surface tension
Yellow signal, between
Heaven and earth
A mere reflection
What was, what will
Sunday, Sunday, ha de Gött!
So mysterious it sits there in the night sky. Sunbathing, casting just a glimpse of light in the dark. So near, so far.
Poetry, songs, stories, horror, hope, longing, envy. Mind provoking since ancient times. Guiding travelers across land and sea, a friend.
Like a cheese full of holes. Knocked about and bombarded by the universe. Hide and seek in twenty eight day cycles.
Howl at the moon, it’s good for you (but not for the neighbors), ha de Gött!
Through the eye of the needle. What can you see.
Through the eye of the needle. What will fit.
Through the eye of the needle. What will thread.
Through the eye of the needle. What’s on the other side
Through the eye of the needle. Camel or man.
Sometimes better not knowing, ha de Gött!
UlleHaddock 