The power lines stretched
across the kingdom of frost
north of all music.
*
The white sun's a long-
distance runner against
the blue mountains of death.
*
The sun is low now.
Our shadows are giants.
Soon all will be shadow.
*
Medieval keep.
Alien city, cold sphinx,
empty arenas.
*
The night flows westwards
horizon to horizon
all at the moon's speed.
*
Oak trees and moon.
Light. Silent constellations.
And the cold ocean.
Selected haiku from Tomas Tranströmer 's 1996 collection, The Sad Gondola.
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