Colin Bell
Ancestral Voices

Land
locked
daydreams.
Ancestral
highways talk to me.
I, Viking descended, look West.
My chromosomes intermixed for adventures at sea.
Those Norfolk farmers' seed-sowing fingers dreamt of Illinois plains.
They left me behind, a native-bred Home Counties boy
as English as teatime at four.
It's not too late.
Deep inside
Viking
blood
stirs.