sara norja

Silver and Gold

Moon above the rooftops
aching to be full
in this scarce-darkening sky
while the sun sinks.
Final glints of fire cross
the silhouette of houses,
caught in windows, tin roofs,

Yes, I’m greeted again
by my city of surprises –

I feast on light
and gathering dusk
in this frostbitten spring,

and as darkness falls,
something opens within.

Man Playing Piazzolla

I’ve seen so much today
my eyes are falling out

but clearest in my mind
is the man on the street
in green top hat, beard red and bristling,
making magic with bottles –

beer bottles
wine bottles
berry-juice bottles

– the man playing glass bottles
strung up on a frame
with water in them. They ring,
they clink a tango tune.
Yes: glass magic,
water magic.

Sara Norja has a master’s degree in English and a predilection for tea. Born in England and currently settled in Helsinki, Finland, she lives for the wind, dance, words, and moments of wonder. Her poetry has appeared in newleaf magazine, Snakeskin, and Chantarelle’s Notebook, and is forthcoming in Strange Horizons and Polu Texni. She blogs at