It's Still Life

20.09.23

09:00
He’s refusing to talk. You’re writing down everything I say. No, I’m not, I tell him. I didn’t write what you said about your foot itching yesterday. Well, okay, I have now, but you forced my hand.

09:01
He has an adorable grin. I love to hear him laugh.

10:50
He and I have been through mirrors and years, clouds and tall grasses. Wind at our back. I am more than half gone, I say, 72 is a weird number.

13:00
Stood under a tree, sheltered from a sharp shower. Ate something breadish with icing and cinnamon, flakes of crumb lifted away in the wind.

13:01
You have crumbs on your chest, he says. So do you, I add. He brushes them away as if they might ignite his clothing.

15:05 (The Viking Museum)
There’s an old king buried here. In his long boat. From a tree, split and slick. Can’t tell his bones from the ship’s ribs. Time is petrified into a dark mass. A king who once wore blood and thirst as a badge.

15:45
The old king’s world is erased under a plough. Time and light and river deep. Buried by a fjord. A mound of soil and stones that kept him.

17:00
I am mere blink and stutter, unlike the Viking king who is forever King.

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©Misky 2023.