For: Edith Södergran Poem by Mark Heathcote

Inscribed … In red granite
As clearer thought as…
Anything—Scandinavian,
Or any other rests upon a grey lawn.

Anon, it circle's a silent grave
Where once stood a blue forest
A single pine tree does remain
etched within, its timeless rings.

Her poems 'Love & solitude' refrain...
Narrow is my circle and the ring of my thoughts
Go round my finger.
This is the scorned, nightingales, bark to sing…

But, laughing-back from her bluest-heights
A pine lark road in heaven is ringed.
Inscribed … In red granite
'Here - four of her last four lines.'

See here lies eternity's shore,
Here the stream rushes by,
And death plays in the bushes
The same simple melody.