the North calls

at least HEL is a civilised airport

you say and head out

to where your soul finds rest

only in fleeting moments


the bliss of farmers' market cheese

and the company of old friends

comforts for just a little while

before the North calls you back home


the cool winds breathing secrets in your ear

your garden full of hares

holding age-old wisdom

nothing but peace under the northern lights

posts

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