Poetry • by Kayla Geitzler 1

Poetry by Kayla Geitzler GRETA HRÍMGERDR transitional cell-sick stubborn-Greta Hálfdansdottir became          hrímgerðr: illness-withered crone-bent smoke-haired pallor-grim Greta Hrímgerðr irritable          and quarrelsome round-shouldered and gloaming-fearing pulled the bedsheets to          her chin recalled a voyage parent-accompanied on a Nepalese riverboat in her winter-darkened window my galdr gaze scryed their vessel tide-turned and fog-steered rudderless drifting through Terai          wetlands halted by a shroud of marsh birds undulating into the dusk by the          thousands exposing in the long grasses of that country frost-aged and crone-          bent a vǫlva to whom Greta Hálfdansdottir shouted greetings until Eric          Hálfdan her father silverheaded pillar-straight strong-shouldered but omen-blind          bade his noisy progeny Be silent. Greta Hrímgerðr gestured to her reflection said          No vǫlva was there ever—from the bow I hailed my fylgja: crone-grey hospital-              gowned bone-bodied. duty-laden Charles Hálfdanson brother-brought his sister-          vagabond stubborn-Greta Hrímgerðr tongue flyting to the seiðmenn of oncology: Greta-Hrímgerðr          crone-grey body fluid-filled and corpse-bloated flyting Charles Hálfdanson my father silver          headed pillar-straight strong-shouldered laid both his sister and his hopes before gods of scalpel and          pharmaceutical cure-all Greta Hrímgerðr hysterectomy-delivered the cancer baby-sized          and organ-gorging colostomy-bowelled fevered Greta Hrímgerðr harridan-hounded          surgeons with complaints of her wound wandering and suppurating from unexpected          places so into Odin’s empty eye they slid her— the organ-divining machine discovering liver-          hidden the dooming dísir I: Braga Hálfdansdottir the amber-haired verse-smith          strong-shouldered Vör-sighted spent each evening heavy-hearted light-voiced visiting my          father’s sister stubborn-Greta Hrímgerðr her life-thread measured by the constrictor-cuff machine and          sustained through clepsydra-intravenous optimism-sickened hospital food-refusing she took from my          aunt-cheering hands the rice I made her from sunset passed moon-rising and after the curfew-crowing          slowly going we ward-wandered and paced the breezeway walled by windows          winter-sieged Our kinship greater said stubborn-Greta Hálfdansdottir In that we          are women of wanderlust: sea-roved and land-rambled. we steered our trek          king-tired feet to the sicklings’ chapel I guided her stood hand on the pew’s          shoulder as she Bibled at the informal pulpit stroking the Irish lace altar grimacing at          the mortuary van visible through the stained glass my aunt Greta Hrímgerðr crone-bent          smoke-haired pallor-grim thanked me for my kindnesses but nun-minded was I never—I          gave nothing to her but my time I: Braga Hálfdansdottir amber-haired verse-smith remorse-          ridden might have studied the doctor’s doctorate been a sleuth of veins and vim taken          valkyrie halberd and spear to bodies’ Ragnarok but fylgja-led to the word-smithing of my          mother’s people my knowledge-gleaning verse-creating of little use to stubborn-Greta Hrímgerðr my          father’s sister norn-denying dísir-doomed the orderlies troll-mighty came to gurney-gather the flesh-          wasted bone-body of Greta Hrímgerðr down down into the hospital bowels they bed-steered her into          care and kind assertiveness of life-end nurses graveyard grey and silent in the palliative care unit my          aunt Greta Hálfdansdottir slept pain-sedated in a room cloister-quiet single-bedded cord-tangled with          medical equipment Hálfdans gathered wake-waiting in the looming star-spotted winter gloaming I daughter of          Charles Hálfdanson accepted his seat of vigil-keeping heart-strong fate-defying Greta Hálfdansdottir          sickly-struggled to turn her body Charles Hálfdanson long-loving sister-pitying curled his fingers          in stubborn-Greta Hálfdansdottir’s clutching bent his silverhead to her brother-begging voice-          failing final-wishing Get me out of here.      –•–  [  >>>>>   BIOS   I   COVER ] + [Distillate © HA&L + Kayla Geitzler  |  {from the Greek bios} -- the course of a life.]