The Longest Dream
It is always the same I take the bus in the morning
but I never get home, can’t tell the driver where to
stop as I have forgotten the name of my valley
I see it clearly when I close my eyes, a small cabin
in the forest’s clearing. My dog is there waiting
and she has waited long.
She hears the sound of a bus nearing the clearing,
but then it changes direction and the sound of its
diesel engine fades slowly away.
She goes back to sleep her patience is endless
she knows she’s not forsaken. I will return to her
when remembering where I live.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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