Several storms came outside the building
they had argued out there in the Atlantic
about which way to blow and now a fight broke out
screaming around the edifice, but mainly outside
my windows trying to get me to take a stand.
They were trolls that had been made homeless
when they built a railway tunnel through
the Dovre Fjell in Norway and the engineers had
spoken badly about their homes said they were filthy
and was full of goats bones.
They knew of me since I befriended a troll who sat
under a wooden bridge waiting for a kid.
I had shown the troll how to fish for trouts and salmon
a change of diet become the trolls well.
I´m too old I said, you have to find a boy of eleven
years old, he will help you; you see, they don´t believe
in trolls in Portugal.
Copyright © jan oskar hansen | Year Posted 2020
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.