Walking a Dachshund in Malmo

Poetry
​Chad Norman 
​

for Kettil Kasang

A life without photographs                                   
in times we currently share
is to be moved,
is to stay close to the intelligence of the Wild,
is to walk away from a locked door
and stare into the Swedish emptiness of a street,
a life without a key,                                                                  
a key to let in the weary ones,
those two I can call my family even
though we are locked out,                         
waiting, standing in front of a door
somewhere in Malmo,                                                      
where we can be moved,
where we can hear the Wild speaking,                      
speaking to our fatigue,                                                               
to our knowing we were late
for the exchange of the key,                                                            
a key we wait for
trying to enjoy our first time in a neighbourhood
full of the fall's insistence,                                                            
colours in bushes,
shadows on sidewalks,                                                                
a growing coolness each time                                                   
I still doubted the handle                                             
wouldn't come
through and get us in,
in where a bed and sofa                                                     
could be a true welcome.
 
 
When there isn't a camera                                                               
is when the eye returns,
no camera,                                                                                        
nothing that captures other than the eye,
everything about being locked out                                                
goes somewhere when she comes                                            
slowly up the noticed sidewalk,
being locked out allows me to observe more
than the dominance of the door,                                             
allows me to scan those darkening bushes,               
allows me to see her 
with the metal forearm-crutches                                                    
on a walk with what I also see                                                          
her dog, stretched out on one of those leashes,                 
her dog way out in front of what                                          
appears to be a daily endeavor,                                           
the walk keeping both alive,                                                       
keeping the little dachshund
way out in front of her amazing ability,                    
crutches uninvolved with where
her mind wishes to go,
wishes for both of them,                                                            
a destination my eyes will never witness,                                      
a destination my mind says
may have something to do                                                  
with a visit to the butcher,                                                      
to do with their love of the sausage.
 
Casa Harris
Jan. 17, 2017

Chad Norman's poems have appeared for the past 35 years in literary publications across Canada, as well as a number of other countries around the world.
He hosts and organizes RiverWords: Poetry & Music festival each year in Truro, NS., held at Riverfront Park , the 2nd Saturday of each July.
In October 2016 he was invited by the Nordic Assn. for Canadian Studies to give talks on Canadian Poetry and read from his books at Borupgaard Gym in Copenhagen, and Risskov Gym in Aarhus, as well as other readings in both cities and Malmo, Sweden. Norman is currently working on a manuscript, Counting Coins In Denmark & Sweden.
His most recent book, Learning To Settle Down, came out 2015 , from Black Moss Press (University of Windsor, Ontario, Canada), and a new book, Selected & New Poems is due out April 2017 from Mosaic Press (Oakville, Ontario, Canada).
His love of walks is endless.

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