Reykjavik, Iceland
on top of the world
crammed
    in
       a
          small
              room
with the darkest darkness outside
reading poetry by candlelight
dim candlelight

flickering constantly
as the words dance around on the page
just 
    as
      witches
             at
               Sabbath
forming strange images in my head
stranger than the darkness outside
the windowpane decorated with frostroses

and I wonder which world this is
mine, the poet's or the one in
Reykjavik, Iceland

09/08/2007

Author's Note: Sitting in the living room and watching the rain pour down outside. Heck, it isn't even autumn equinox jet!

Posted on 09/08/2007
Copyright © 2024 Sigurdur Haraldsson