Theme: Abstract

To Know Without Knowing

Red moss, crimson as blood of a slaughtered calf,
I knew I had seen it before but could not recall
where or when. Like seeing a landscape painting
knowing I had been there before, long time ago.

In the valley of cobblers, children ran barefoot on
summer grass and they scented of wild flowers
unpasteurized milk and healthy, innocent laughter.

I know this to be true but don’t know why?

I think of reindeers, would they eat red moss used
as they are to the grey variety? Sun keeps shining
like Spanish blood orange with a wicked cold.

The good earth is dry, waits for rain…plenty of it.
The red moss is a forgotten love story and perhaps
if I sit still long enough and wait, I will remember it. 



More By  :  Jan Oscar Hansen

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