Tettsted

the absence of a void,         a place               where crowding happens, a forest
where there is no space for light                   between
so many leaves – a town center, lit. “closely place”
(Norwegian)

There is no wall, yet
an ocean looms

lace currents, fingers into every inlet,

I’d call it a longer coastline

                                                   if you count the rivers

                                                   we forded, our lifted canoes and
                                                   woven hems past the lip

                                                   of whatever lies between us and
                                                   that first meeting.               I only brought

whatever I could carry. I left behind
so many and                            so much

                                                   of what I loved. Let me be

an ocean of stars,                   held fast

                                                   as flag of warning.