From a series of poems written during my stay in Lapland.
I thought I was flying
somewhere remote
but stepping off the bus
I realised I was wrong.
People skiing,
people hiking,
people,
people,
people
racing around
frantically,
like a swarm of ants
shaping their anthill
with a strict deadline
and short on money.
Capable folks
knowing where to go
while I,
stunned by the fuss,
couldn’t even picture
where my building was.
I expected “peaceful”
and got “hectic”.
Oh well.
Cosmic & Uneasy 
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