Jane Røken

Late summer on the road

say yes
this is the unspoken calling,
an effort of the imagination
so violently green:
the painted caravan
at the back of the grove
is sliding on shifting shale,
hot hollows
shady rests
blankets full of strange delights
the colour of tyrean gold

be awake
be my astrolabe
my map o’ the universe
magnetic miracle
my windhover,
be my well-tried comfort
be mine

stay alive
the scarecrow in the field
is following
the long-distance birds
that cross the sky at dawn,
looking for colours
beyond the map,
secret colours
no one has yet named

regard the world kindly
outside our small safe space flies mystery,
lean transparent insects,
silver lairs of tunnel spiders
under nets of dappled light,
fairy lanterns, fairy rings
the birch, the rowan, the mountain ash
ivy-leaved toadflax
skeletal leaves
lost villages

keep moving
tough-spirited rain
is plaiting my hair,
rising winds add
strange designs and curlicues,
the indeterminate inflection
of our route
and the luminous mill wheel
always ahead

try to be joyful
the season is changing
with advancing walls
of echoes,
we see the tail of summer
waving head-high
in wild grasses and grain,
and like autumn weeds
grown tall and tired,
we lie down

Jane Røken lives in Denmark, on the interface between hedgerows and barley fields. She is fond of old tractors, garden sheds, scarecrows and other stuff that, in the due course of time, will ripen into something else. Her writings have been published in many different places, mostly online.

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The views and opinions expressed throughout belong to the individual artists and may or may not coincide with those of the other artists (or editors) represented within the magazine. Hobo Camp Review supports a free-for-all atmosphere of artistic expression, so enjoy the poetry, fiction, opinions, and artwork within, read with an open mind, and comment wisely. Thanks for stopping by the Camp!