Rummaging memories as this bus chugs
jerks, bounces along, leaning on wide turns
my life curves, no place to remain, Rilke knew
even in public cemeteries our bones are dug
up after five years and not belonging
to any one place, our dust shifts with the wind
dunes drafted off from a refiner’s fire
an oasis mirage wandering, freedom becomes
solitude under the same stretch of starry
heavens here Orion replaces the Summer
Triangle and orientation is linked to new longitudes.
c) Jan G. Otterstrom F.
February 28, 2009