A tale of two harbours, norman and shetlandic.
When I am asked, “are you going home for Christmas?” – I smile.
I am home, it is where my heart beats….
Norman, Shetland, it is quite explicit: nor… norse….north.
I once shared a first poem entitled Confession to a Foreigner with Colin Will [Calder Wood Press, Poetry Scotland]who posted it on the Open Mouse.
In this poem, I notably underline the lack of choice for a passport.
And when I face the Atlantic, I know “I’m home”.
To some extend, I celebrate my ancestors.