A cat chooses to sleep

close beside me;

my left arm occupied

with maintaining her sense of safety

My right hand struggles alone

with the pencil

and a folded A4 sheet,

using Yi-Fu Tuan's Space & Place;

the Perspective of Experience,

(ISBN 978-8166-3877-2)

as a sleek, slippery support

- but there is a dead bird

in my rib cage:

the echo of her song stands deep forest obscure

down my remembrance

Someone stretches and hears my name

as I whisper it in my early hours

and recall myself

The train sings gamelanish in the rail,

calls deep in the embankment,

chants like electricity through the mycelia

to all trees in Northbothnia,

but the train is an empty space

at a certain speed;

my entrails coexisting year upon year,

granting the gifts of reason their shimmering elegance

Twice today I have skied across the marshes,

my face blazing

like a cast-iron stove from Näfveqvarn

Now the day lies moored

like a cargo ship

after a perilous crossing