Jan G. Otterstrom F.

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I found my story in apocryphal writings
deep in museum dust, a book of antique
codes, there in Copenhagen where I
was born of good parents and taught
the ways of my people but left to seek
greater knowledge beyond the horizon
of the mind.  The narrative was lyrical
but so obscure the verses inverse veiled
their underside the only way to untie
their cryptic knot, decipher through
the musty maze of ode to where I stood
upon a hill to see the breadth, uncharted
sea spread out, my yawl stocked, all
provisions stowed, compass in hand
the heavens in my head, I knelt one last
time, before boarding, then said farewell.

  1. Jan G. Otterstrom F.

May 17, 2009
La Habana, Cuba