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Fate


Wyndreth Berginsdottir            


for Heri

Howling hunter
strides the sky
harrying his heartbane’s
searing sting, the
star-steel
borne at his belt
keen and cold.

Green and bold,
bright boys
stand staring
star-eyed and
spell-bound at
svart sky-sea,
yearn for lore
scented with salt
and blood-bought,
dreaming doughty deeds.

You, brightest
boldest brother,
heathen-hearted,
gravely gazing
grey-eyed, grown
thewed and thoughtful,
reading the hunter’s
rune-rede set in stars.
Come back to the mountain.
Clutch close with
fierce fingers the
baying blade-shaped wind.

Wake the world.


© 2008 Karen L Kahan



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