Somewhere Between Lillehammer and Trondheim
My body rocks back and forth
as the train weaves its way through the lumpy landscape
of still, wintry mountains in the darkening night.
Northern Norway in early March.
The moon glows as it rises over curved silhouettes.
I watch it from the window.
Bright. Lonely. Silver orb.
The few other passengers in this carriage are asleep.
Then I see another light in the distance:
a curious, flickering, reddish hue.
My face presses hard on the cold glass,
to bring me closer to the apparition.
A huge man is sitting, cross-legged, by a giant bonfire
warming his overgrown hands.
I know it is icy out there.
He does not look up, though I see a half-smile appear
through his unkempt, auburn beard.
He knows I can see him.
I continue to stare as the train trundles
past the isolated, impossible,
lay-by of this mythic being.
Lorraine Whelan is a Canadian writer and visual artist based in Ireland. Her prose, poetry, and art criticism has appeared in Ireland, Canada, USA, Luxembourg and online Her artwork is included in public, private and corporate collections in Ireland, USA, Canada, UK, Belgium, and Australia.