mythic / archaic version
The day wakes wavering,
bare to the strike,
dragging its feet along the forest’s hem
Soot-marked on snow,
frost caught in the loins of the world
Dawn is compelled light,
groping with numbed fingers,
a guilt without blame
that swells,
tuning itself to ancient measure
By midwinter’s broken noon
the light is signed away,
and dusk climbs backward
through the realm’s deceitful fans of stone,
where dark-voiced boulders roll,
heard beneath the ironed glass of winter waters
From the enthroned organs of ice
the sound descends,
close to the sky’s just-intoned hovering.
Poetry by Ingvar Loco Nordin
Read 19 times
Written on 2026-01-06 at 11:17
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Day Vague (II)
The day wakes wavering,
bare to the strike,
dragging its feet along the forest’s hem
Soot-marked on snow,
frost caught in the loins of the world
Dawn is compelled light,
groping with numbed fingers,
a guilt without blame
that swells,
tuning itself to ancient measure
By midwinter’s broken noon
the light is signed away,
and dusk climbs backward
through the realm’s deceitful fans of stone,
where dark-voiced boulders roll,
heard beneath the ironed glass of winter waters
From the enthroned organs of ice
the sound descends,
close to the sky’s just-intoned hovering.
Poetry by Ingvar Loco Nordin
Read 19 times
Written on 2026-01-06 at 11:17
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
