We fought Death in the field fired with our spark • we said we’d out-do death armed with gods and bark • we saw Death in the field and ciphered in the stars • he said he’d plant a seed to show us • how it ends is how it must start • on the seed he scribed in brown ‘touch death gingerly’ • per fess his bony hand slit-throat grauballe • ageless he presses lindow our compressed woe • leather strap futhark oghamed in the ground • and he planted the seed in Århus soil • seed belly harnessed to the toil • he carved the face from peat • sleeping palimpsest • formed the mouth as his own • tired of the living • and he crowned his kingmud regulus to rulegold of plenty to grow • our fears to fuel • and he planted the seed in Århus peat • seed belly noosed to the field • tollund sacrifice to bear new words for our rough tongue • no crime except he whispers • “eite thuathail Death’s final word • eite thuathail the final score” • and he planted the seed in Århus soil • seed belly harnessed to the toil • and he planted the seed in Århus peat • seed belly noosed to the field
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