Vuono Vacation

Finland’s flag redacts four

white rectangles from the

sky like there was a floating

cross of nothingness leaving

flapping voids in an ocean

of morning. It burns the eyes

even when the sun’s light

is blocked. This far north

in the thinned atmosphere

of the upper ridges above

a fjord filled with sea water

which refracts that light

into a deeper hue than that

which ripples overhead.

There is no real silence—

the breeze blows transparent

air with the hint of wild

azaleas swiftly along with

the vibrations of branches

brushing leaves, the stretching

of limbs and tenting fingers

of evergreen needles, the

shuffling MacQueen’s bustard

dancing for its mate. Escape

from sound is as unrealistic

as dodging the bright sky

when stepping out of a cabin

situated alone on the slopes

of Paarlahti. The vibrancy

and freshness of the air

like wireless charging for

the weary souls of travelers.