Poems from the Norse-lands




Black Ship

Fjords long behind us
prow cutting into open sea
a dark sail folding into twilight
the land is still not seen.
The wall of waves
holds no fear
life cannot pass
what fate designed
we have to follow destiny
the Black Ship
was always mine.

Morning rises from the mist
cramped bodies start to stir
a hint of land
breaks the horizon
it could be a day of war.
We hear the surf
break hard on rocks
our drum beats
out the rowing time –
some men love drink and women
the Black Ship was always mine.

© Fingleton (Août 2016) (Löst Viking)

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