A poem from Gotland in mid-winter:
Midwinter, its own diffuse vacuum
between something and nothing.
The sea is restive.
A cold front is crossing from the west;
later in the day: risk of snow.
But the grey-scale graphics suddenly
are torn by an intruding light.
Stiff golden suns,
summer's enduring testament,
light up in the waving beach-grass.
Emptiness fills with Rembrandt light.
The seam between memory
and hope is resealed.
Håkan A
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