Midsummer
John Claiborne Isbell

Oslo

It’s 2 a.m. in Norway, and the pine

is sleeping, like the scattered fields that line

the lakes and fjords. The plowed earth has brought

its crop to air and sunlight, but is caught

for now in the night’s talons. In the still

lakes’ waters, you can view the stars – they fill

that surface as if treasure could be had

with cup and ladle. But though folk are glad

to dream of wealth untold, they cannot keep

what the sky offers. They are fast asleep.

Soon, day will come to wash the stars from sight –

for it is now midsummer, and the night

is fleeting, and the day is long, up here

where reindeer run, where the lopsided year

brings day, then night like a full cup to all

who have not left the North. Soon, in their stall,

the cows will low for milking. But for now,

the very birds all sleep. I don’t know how,

but Rita has left Norway for a land

so distant, I could see my own right hand

form characters I wouldn’t know, or speak

in simple birdsong. She has left the week

for dream’s dominion. Sprawled now on the bed,

she slumbers, and her salt and pepper head

is lost to all Norwegians. You might try

some trill or warble. You might sooner fly

with her into midsummer air. The night

is short, but it is potent, and the light

of moon and stars that touches every lake

will lift your sleepy limbs. There’s no mistake.

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Fliss: Greetings, John, and well met! Many thanks for returning again, for our July 2026 issue.

Word-Bird: Hooray!

John: You are most welcome, Fliss and Word-Bird! It’s splendid to be here.

F: Splendid indeed. So here we are in Oslo, Midsummer, having travelled up in the WM van rather early in the morning! Does the poem describe a recent trip, John?

J: It was two or three years ago, so quite recent. And our only visit to the country, though I am part-Norwegian.

F: Oh, that’s interesting, John. W.-B. would like to know which part, please? She thinks it might be the antlers, but she's just being silly as usual!

J: Ah! An excellent question. It is in fact my earlobes!

F: Brilliant! Well, let’s put those to good use, somehow, as we continue the discussion. We appreciate the description of the scenery through the first stanza, John. It produces a very peaceful tone, while expressions such as ‘night’s talons’ and ‘cup and ladle’ are pretty fresh, we think. Did you write the poem early in the morning?

J: Hmm! It looks like I wrote it at 2 a.m. Generally when I put a time of day in I am faithful to that. Mind you, in Norway in Midsummer, the sun is up by around 2 a.m.

F: That seems amazingly early, John! What time does the sun set? In England, the earliest sunrise of the year is about 5am, we think, the sun having set at 9:30pm or so.

J: The sun is down for a couple of hours, I think, around Oslo – let’s check. Prof. Wiki says, “The sky never fully darkens, creating a magical ’white night’ atmosphere,” which is how I remember it. Stockholm was much the same, it was certainly light enough to read at 11 p.m.

F: Well, this is astonishing, John. Fleeting indeed, as you put it in your second stanza. We love those running reindeer, by the way, the cows too, and the birds, naturally. As you know, W.-B. and I enjoy visiting Dreamland and we’re quite enchanted by the expression ‘dream’s dominion’. Norway seems a pretty dreamy location of itself, though, as the poem has it. Was that the impression you had, during your stay?

J: Flying over Norway was impressive: the lakes, the endless forest, the rugged terrain. Oslo was quite lovely – a very modern city on a fjord – and since we arrived the day after the awful nightclub shooting, everyone was wearing rainbow leis, including the royal family who visited the site that day. I asked a young man where to get a lei, and he took off his own and put it over my head.

F: We remember that shooting, John, such a terrible time. It was kind of the young man to give you his lei, and all those rainbows must have looked so beautiful. Well, shall we turn to metrical matters now? This is pentameter, we think? And with regard to rhyme, rhyming couplets throughout?

J: You are quite correct! The poem is in iambic pentameter couplets, AKA heroic couplets. Being given the lei was rather moving; and yes, all the leis did look beautiful and very colorful.

F: Well, heroic seems most apt, John. Thanks for the confirmation! All that magnificent scenery brings to mind the music of Sibelius; that’s Finland, of course, but we’re in the right region! Perhaps we could listen to some Norwegian equivalent as we depart?

J: Perhaps Edvard Grieg’s In the Hall of the Mountain King? That is quite dramatic music!

F: Of course! Grieg! Excellent suggestion, John. How’s this for a fun recording?

J: Woo-hoo! Keep your eyes peeled for trolls!!

F: Will do, John. Fortunately W.-B. has brought her thwacking stick, so that’ll see them off!

J: Aha, the trusty thwacking stick! Thwack, thwack! and so forth. Jolly good!

W.-B.: Yeah!

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John Claiborne Isbell is a writer and now-retired professor currently residing in France with his wife Margarita. Their son Aibek lives in California with his wife Stephanie. John’s first book of poetry was Allegro (2018); he also publishes literary criticism, for instance An Outline of Romanticism in the West (2022) and Women Writers in the Romantic Age (April 2025), both available free online. John spent 35 years playing Ultimate Frisbee and finds it difficult not to dive for catches any more!

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Midsummer John Claiborne Isbell

Midsummer
John Claiborne Isbell