By Katje Kaase

The traveller returned

In a near rhyme.

But that was wrong,

Like an unexpected slap.

What was once so far

Was now the noise of near.

That raucous note.

A halt in the air

When words flip.

A pause in time

With imperfect rhyme.

The heavy whisper,

Like a swallowed rock,

Pushed down deep

And settled


It all came back

And now was


October, 2019