Visitor to Archipelagos: A Poem

for several years,

a north-erly land,

filled with Vikings,

tall lean Nordic people,

lilting accents in English,

a land filled with towering trees, probably years and years old,

filled with water in the south,

archipelagos stretching, stretching many islands

connecting to a sweet-icing city of pinks, oranges, blues

fading into elegant buildings shining in the sun,

a bustling place,

full of people going places,

even the young ‘uns,

full of fika, good cheese, bakery items, liquorice, lingenberry, warm beer,

outside patios,

a lovely place,

that is hard for outsiders too penetrate,

nice but not overtly welcoming into friend groups,

a place pretending utopia,

but careful to avoid critique,

a place of laggom but nothing else,

a place that is hard for the

daughter of the prairies to touch.