SUOMENLINNA

The Sun glitters on the waves

of the Baltic, a ferry

frozen near the horizon

a silhouette in black.

The old ramparts, empty,

rise in near solitude

as wind blowing from the sea

scatters snow in the air.

Something approaching

joy worms its way

through the sorrow

to the centre of thoughts.

How pure would be

the moment if I could nurture

and relish that feeling;

but it's joy lost too far in time.

You are dead, you that made

life fully a life are dead,

and so close

the silence, one step away.

The waves come heavy

and sluggish to the icy

shore, sluggish like

life ebbing away.

Yet like the bushes on the cliffs

the mind and the flesh

cling to this hollowed existence,

fearing the great darkness beneath.

07.03.2019