Sólja

by Jennifer Morag Henderson

he sits in stillness
his back to the house
a focus
birds dipping like small brown heavinesses through the air
around him.
the small yellow flowers on the grass are sólja – buttercup
the wind drops, pausing before
it starts rifling through the petals again
tiny white flowers grow, no longer than short green grass blades,
at the top of the windblown mountains in the Faroes
snow buttercup
snjósólja
tiny purple flowers in the moss here
circle flower
weed spread
out of place
I envy his thoughtful contemplation
he looks like a man creating –
if only poems came from stillness.