Short Visit To Paradise: By Al Larus

obscura

You welcomed me with closed eyes

On the last evening of September.

When I lit a fire you got warm inside

rousing two flies,

now and then

hovering close to the flames

like sleepy old winos.

Undemanding and quiet

you made me settle down.

I fetched a log for the fireplace

and fell towards eternity

listening to the waves

interrupted by small sounds

from your drying wood.

No speedboats or cries from feeding gulls

in the morning.

No hamburgers and overprized pints.

on the tables by the marina.

Paradise returns with empty beaches.

as undisturbed cormorants turn to icons,

unfolding their black wings

on the rock

below the lighthouse.

Before I leave a promenade

along the narrow road.

A fisherman with lobster traps.

A yawning cat.

A caterpillar.

Alan Larus

“I live in Norway and work with database programming. When I have the time I walk in the mountains, forests and along the sea. I also listen to music and read and write a little poetry and take pictures.”

Illustration by Brian Johnsen.

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