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His wrinkles went somehow deeper 
than those of a national will do. 

And his eyes were somehow darker - 
not without a brightness in them -
 intelligence behind a film, foreign repose. 

I saw from the hood on his red coat
 that he was passing through the land
 not that the coat was novel or strange
 his hood was tighter, more practically donned.

 His whiskers were somehow thicker
 scratching the surface of the Great Land a beard from three days’ unshaven growth
 the stubble, wisdom of an Englishman. 

Far different than I, not better, but old
 emotions just a hair deeper hidden 
than mine were: shivering in the cold. 

I knew from his voice, his language: 
 mine was his, mine the younger.

 A shaman with a home on the Eire
 though not from that verdant spot 
souls are all equal, nation matters not. 

An infusion of Alastair’s yarrow root 
 diluted in cold, sprayed sea water
 coaxed home to the waves the sunlight 
our trust and a handshake.
0
Jun 28, 2010
Jun 28, 2010 at 10:21 PM UTC
Yarrow Root
His wrinkles went somehow deeper 
than those of a national will do. 

And his eyes were somehow darker - 
not without a brightness in them -
 intelligence behind a film, foreign repose. 

I saw from the hood on his red coat
 that he was passing through the land
 not that the coat was novel or strange
 his hood was tighter, more practically donned.

 His whiskers were somehow thicker
 scratching the surface of the Great Land a beard from three days’ unshaven growth
 the stubble, wisdom of an Englishman. 

Far different than I, not better, but old
 emotions just a hair deeper hidden 
than mine were: shivering in the cold. 

I knew from his voice, his language: 
 mine was his, mine the younger.

 A shaman with a home on the Eire
 though not from that verdant spot 
souls are all equal, nation matters not. 

An infusion of Alastair’s yarrow root 
 diluted in cold, sprayed sea water
 coaxed home to the waves the sunlight 
our trust and a handshake.
benjamin-adelaar
Written by
Jun 28, 2010
Jun 28, 2010 at 10:21 PM UTC
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