A cat chooses to sleep
close beside me;
my left arm occupied
with maintaining her sense of safety

My right hand struggles alone
with the pencil
and a folded A4 sheet,
using Yi-Fu Tuan's Space & Place;
the Perspective of Experience,
(ISBN 978-8166-3877-2)
as a sleek, slippery support

- but there is a dead bird
in my rib cage:
the echo of her song stands deep forest obscure
down my remembrance

Someone stretches and hears my name
as I whisper it in my early hours
and recall myself

The train sings gamelanish in the rail,
calls deep in the embankment,
chants like electricity through the mycelia
to all trees in Northbothnia,
but the train is an empty space
at a certain speed;
my entrails coexisting year upon year,
granting the gifts of reason their shimmering elegance

Twice today I have skied across the marshes,
my face blazing
like a cast-iron stove from Näfveqvarn

Now the day lies moored
like a cargo ship
after a perilous crossing