meeting a princess
Meeting a princess
It was, according to the old, the coldest winter
any could remember, the wise said it was because
the war had disturbed the weather pattern
One day, it snowed, then it got mild, after that
it got
very cold, the hilly road turned into an ice rink
to our delight of children
We could sleigh all the way to the lake in the town
the lake, poets wrote about; they were building a hotel on the other side where old houses had been
It was the tallest building in the world, mother said
it would be better to build housing for the poor
What did she know, reading books all day long?
In the afternoon, as the day faded, an old lady was going
home, she slipped and fell on the treacherous road
we helped her up; she had a nosebleed.
She opened her lacquered handbag took out a handkerchief that had borders and was the whitest he had ever seen, dabbing her nose in a delicate manner
So brittle she was, like something rare that could vanish
into thin air, I took it upon myself to take her home
she held onto my arm like a butterfly.
She had a beautiful oval face, and we had round faces
like, farm folks, I concluded she was of royal heritage
was she a princess from a forgotten country?
I opened the front door for her, she gave me a sweet I put in my pocket to savor late and also
to show the other boys sweets were rationed.
We had fine teeth.
When coming home very late, the night was starlit
we boys had a great time showing off sliding on the ice
to impress the timid girls
At home, mother sat reading a book, I think written by
a Russian bloke called Tolstoy looked up and said
if you are hungry, find something in the kitchen.
I told the mother of an old princess I had helped her home
she had fallen on the ice and had nosebleed
Princess! She said there are no royals in this town
what was her name? Marianne, and she spoke posh
Oh, her, she was a big, Nazi during the war
I was annoyed with my mother; why did she go and
spoil it all, what did she know about life, with her nose stuck in a book, and who the hell is Hemingway?
Copyright ©
Jan Hansen
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