Rendalen

I select the Rendalen cup with its logo of a gleeful horse
because it reminds me of a valley east of Lillehammer
where there’s nothing to see, a surprised friend assures me,
nothing except the octagonal church and beyond
the churchyard, not quite overlooking a torrent which
is actually Norway’s largest river, a curious
river-polished stone in a mown glade among birches –
a hollowed out space feeling holy in its own right.
Further on a sign points over a bridge to Sweden.
I store that road curving up and away for a next time which
hasn’t happened yet though much else has: a new house,
baby born, his legs already growing longer, running faster
into a future where some unremarkable morning I may drive
up across the Birkebeiner Way and follow over the river.
 

Margaret Wilmot

published in Scintilla, ⌗27, 2024