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The human troll

He was the tallest man I have ever seen, bigger than the rest
he had one big eye, a lantern, seeing wide and a smaller eye 
seeing inwards; he retired as an airline pilot at 75.
He preferred to fly at night alone under the stars listening
to the symphony of the galaxy.
His motto was discretion, not for him to write a book hanging
out anyone, like when he flew explorers, sledges and dogs
to the Nord pole and said nothing when the fearless men
took the glory and got their names in the newspaper.
When he finally retired, there was not a word of his exploit
no king’s medal, no flags were waved.
He had his memory like when he landed on the Savannah
when the elephants played the trumpets to his honour and
The lions wagged their tales.
No one knew where he came from; he never told me
I guessed from a mountain somewhere in the hinterlands
the day he disappeared, the earth shock, I knew he
had been a troll trying his luck in the human world

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