Goddess, you've brought me the sun in your golden shield,
and Odin's ravens--Hugin and Munin--bend
the metal pole of my finch feeder with their weight.
Armor off, you stand, blonde-haired, barefoot,
in a blue tunic, and brush snow from the flowers
that surround my house. Inside, I drink your ale
and eat the bitter flesh you say will make me
strong, for love and death ride on your breasts.
A car rattles by like a skull bowled by a breeze
from Asgard. When the ice in my body and soul thaws
and breaks, let me warm my fingers on the little infinity
that stretches from your navel to your pubic bone: we'll row
your white boat between the floes and watch
the moon bejewel the backs of whales that breach
the shimmering skin of your deepest northern sea.