Forenoon Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

August Forenoon
There is a sale on in the dress shop bathing trunks reduced up
to 40%. It has been a good summer and few local people have
died but the price of coffins stays the same....
So beautiful a forenoon, I drove on my moped to visit a carob tree
I used to sit under when lonely
Its thick branched protected me from the world. Under it now
two elderly women -on their knees- picking sweet, black beans.
The small farmers around here have aged with me, the women
looked up and smiled at this elderly, permanent tourist on his
round; he is like a hasty brush stroke on the canvas of eternity.
On green vines hung juicy grapes tasted one it was like an explosion
of natural sweetness that filled my mouth with yesterdays pleasure,
they are ready to be harvested and made into wine, not for the rich
but for the local people to drink with their stew.