history

Maybe what I miss most

Wasn’t the beige dwellings

housing our belongings.

Though I protected them with all my might

I longed to escape their confines.

Maybe what I miss most

wasn’t the calm lake that spilled

into the Baltic Sea.

Though it was a silent witness

where Solveig and I made secret love

beneath the twinkling eyes of the gods.

Maybe what I miss most

was a curl of Elin’s yellow hair

wisping up into the air

as she loosed her lethal arrow.

Cheeks flushed.

Eyes ablaze with the glory of war.

Maybe what I miss most

were sounds of military merriment in the tavern.

Victorious and raucous.

While I washed the blood off of my axe

in the quietness of the lake

that swallowed our stories into the water.

Maybe what I miss most

were the sounds of twenty boats

breaking a path through the Baltic Sea.

The promise of fortune and fate

drawing out the heaving breaths

of my army, working the oars through the black water

towards a destination far beyond

what we could see.

800px-birka_sweden_viking_grave_bj_581_by_hjalmar_stolpe_in_1889

When the tomb was first uncovered, archaeologists assumed its occupant was a male warrior Public domain

Inspired by the very real historical Viking Warrior, who was first assumed to be male upon excavation in 1878. (And also inspired by a song with the same refrain). Due to the remains being buried with an arsenal of weapons and a game set, used in strategic thinking, it was clear that it was a warrior’s tomb.

It took more than a hundred years later for someone to examine the bones and confirm that the lack of Y-chromosomes indicates the remains were female. This caused much controversy. But the evidence speaks for itself, and the myth of the female Viking warrior became fact.

The artifacts in the tomb indicated she was a high ranking warrior. My poem tries to capture life through the eyes of this dead warrior, in the Viking village of Birka.

Geography plays a major role in the activities and organisation of a community. In this case, Birka (located in Sweden) was a major trading post between Northern Europe and the rest of the world.

Anthropological and historical studies show that much of what the modern world perceives as uniquely masculine or feminine gets debunked by findings such as these. Where medieval and sometimes ancient customs do not have the same roles and customs assigned to specific genders as we do today.

Written for dVerse Poets Pub

**Image from Smithsonian.com.

Zahra leaned towards the mirror, dabbing eye cream around her eyes hoping to see those dreaded fine lines vanish. She turned her face in the dim light, trying to catch a glimpse of the smooth-faced beauty that once won her pageant titles.

Her husband appeared behind her reflection. “Still as beautiful as ever!”

She smiled softly. She never noticed just how grey his hair had become. Were those wrinkles on his face from years of laughter, or from sadness? Guilt pinched her heart.

She took his face in her hands and planted a kiss on his eager lips.

98 words

The image made me think of a flower that has lost its bloom, and that led to thoughts of ageing beauties. Zahra, in arabic, means flower.

This story was in part inspired by a poem I once read about an ageing couple, (the title and poet eludes me, sorry). The husband looked at the lines on his wife’s face and found beauty in them, because they were borne from the history of their lives together.

Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by, Rochelle Wiesoff-Fields. The challenge is to write a full story in 100 words or less. Click the blue frog to read more flash fiction from other writers.