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Array ( [sid] => 6224 [catid] => 1 [aid] => Mick [title] => a short visit [time] => 2002-11-05 05:00:00 [hometext] => [bodytext] => The Short Visit


The airport is near to the sea, on
the narrow strip of flatland before
the silvery grey mountains begins,
where tiny bushes, light as air, grow
in stony cracks only held down by
a faith in an abstract god; but before
winter storms they disappear no one
has yet discovered where. When it
rains, it often does, black umbrellas
smell of angry, foamy ocean waves
and women’s hats of rinsed seaweed.
The bus going into town had its
windows steamed up, silent travellers
within, pale faces full of unspoken,
blue dread. Rented a car, the traffic
was slow, well regulated and gloomily
Nordic. A flash of fear came over me
I could so easily drown here and be
regulated too, not find my way back
south in the vale, far from the sea, but
near a tiny lake that dries up when
summer is hot; where the light is lucid,
even in autumnal fog and the future is
as clear as life lived. Yes, they had
a flight to the south leaving at nine
o’clock. I closed my eyes and didn’t
open them again before I’m safely in
the air.
[comments] => 1 [counter] => 463 [topic] => 43 [informant] => Jan_Oskar_Hansen [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
a short visit

Contributed by Jan_Oskar_Hansen on Tuesday, 5th November 2002 @ 05:00:00 AM in AEST
Topic: oops



The Short Visit


The airport is near to the sea, on
the narrow strip of flatland before
the silvery grey mountains begins,
where tiny bushes, light as air, grow
in stony cracks only held down by
a faith in an abstract god; but before
winter storms they disappear no one
has yet discovered where. When it
rains, it often does, black umbrellas
smell of angry, foamy ocean waves
and women’s hats of rinsed seaweed.
The bus going into town had its
windows steamed up, silent travellers
within, pale faces full of unspoken,
blue dread. Rented a car, the traffic
was slow, well regulated and gloomily
Nordic. A flash of fear came over me
I could so easily drown here and be
regulated too, not find my way back
south in the vale, far from the sea, but
near a tiny lake that dries up when
summer is hot; where the light is lucid,
even in autumnal fog and the future is
as clear as life lived. Yes, they had
a flight to the south leaving at nine
o’clock. I closed my eyes and didn’t
open them again before I’m safely in
the air.




Copyright © Jan_Oskar_Hansen ... [ 2002-11-05 05:00:00]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: a short visit (User Rating: 1 )
by Essentially9 on Sunday, 1st August 2004 @ 09:35:44 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
well written.




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