(for Ábjǫrn Telemark Battalion )

Let me drift with you
Fall inside your shadow
When you whistle
Off beat
I want to hear
You suck for air
That off-beat sound
Struggling to find the note

It is strange how we remember people
A laugh
A smile
Sometimes the words of a song
That underlines a memory
With Ábjǫrn
It was his whistle
A sucking noise
Craggy and sometimes inaudible
Except to himself

What made him different
Was the he liked to whistle in graveyards
It helped calm the dead
He once told me
A sort of keening
A lamenting
Like it was in the old days

Now when I am in that part of the world
I always visit him
Never walking on the gravel paths
But instead in the grass margins
Between the graves
Just in case
He decides to blow
Through the earthen smog

© Fingleton (Juin 2016) (Löst Viking)

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