Vikings
VIKINGS
Erik went east to Yamal peninsula’s spring
For Russian hides and terrifying antlers
From the world’s biggest reindeer herd,
In April crossing the thawing Ob River,
Safe from predators : good hunting
And fully laden longboats. Now,
In a Bergen June, waiting at quays
On a clouded grey grave dawn,
Anxious eyes strained to sea.
Men home from o’er the horizon
In a still tiny longboat buffeting
Through the hurling combers,
Sail disappearing, reappearing.
Glad to have them home
From the deep unknown
Where only an oak plank
Separates life from depth :
As she crosses the bar
To ease down on
The gravel.
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