Vinland 

five times first fires
sundered hearth stones
                then    next spring
we rebuilt the hall
& named our settlement

both boats being built
at the river's bend

from Vilborg's hearth
by the five pines by the river
is one days way to the first cairn

marks of deer
we found in the soft ground
we have seen bear by the river
fires in the forest

to the farthest cairn
is five days march

I slew an elk there
by the stone seat in the folds
from the sea to the stone seat
is the sight of an eye
& from Ulf's seat to world's end
trees move like the sea

axe rings clear
for the west seekers

though we found no oak
we mended stout ships

I will slay Vilborg's husband
when the west seekers return

though I do all this
my axe cries for man's blood

& then the crows will be gorged

Dick Russell

Wolfprints, 1971

Iceland

     a rainbow bridge
yellow
            red
                   blue
   & steep rays of sunlight
light the hills

                         stones
moor
             dolmens
                               outcrops
      sheep
alone
                  with their unity

cloud obscures the peaks
mist descends on the pass
sad green the lichen:

now calling to the gods
through a sky circle of blue
sunlight racing      wind rushing
color jumps into horse
                              moss & stone

snow glints on white peaks
sky deepens as the sea
now blue now purple
                      with a pinkish edge

     flat lands
filled with sand...
a road runs straight to a ford
a mountain ring watches
the silent procession of the stream
traveler's movement
the rain's revenge...

      days decrease
bring less light to the north
golden wings hang pale

black water slides down the fjord
there is hard comfort for brave men
in the gaunt crags
                    mountain slopes
      drip to the limestone caves

a hero is leaving the fjord
leaving the haunt of his songs
mist swirls over him

now the wind waits astern
       his songs will  steer his ship

soon no sight of him or land
but a gleam of red
where a wink of fire shines from
                                      his breast

so the father's broach is returned
        by the son

a sea eagle was his device
the winter was his habitat



Dick Russell
Wolfprints, 1971