Longship

My older self is rowing
Seated on a rough plank
Of a Norse longship headed
Southwest for the Seine estuary
Not to raid but to settle lands
Given by the French to Lord
Rollo thinking of the rich
Lands around Rouen as
One of my other older
Selves speaking a
Frankish patois
Hones the iron
Francesca
Throwing
Axe to
Greet
Norseman
To what will be
Normandy one day.
Far to the east across
Europe in Kiev on the river
Denpr another of my older selfs
Packs trade goods for the Swedish
Longship expected any week from
Constantinople or some Greek
Port on the Black or Aegean
Seas hoping the ship will
Not land on a holy day
As the rabbi is proud
Too stubborn to see
Reality is trade and
So must be got
Around some
Way so we
May save
Tradition
And still
Eat this
Winter.
Above
The sun
Shines over
The world’s edge
Rising bright today
Only a few clouds no
Rain and tonight the stars
Will dance across the night sky
Constellations in a minute of
Light until the moon shines
So brightly stars hide but
My older selves do not
Know the light they
See is older than
Any older self
And I wonder
Now if the
Same is
True of
Some
Galaxy
Or even
Universe
Gone to rise
Again but now
My older selves
Must take a pee,
Drink and eat wipe
Away the sweat until
They are themselves a
Bit of sun star moon light
Or some constellation
Called the longship
Somewhere up in
The heavens
Far away.