1130 C. E., Near Lustrafjorden, Norway

“Before you bow your head to enter in
and honor the carpenter’s thin son,
look up at us, at what
seem vines and lilies in a braid,

a tendrilled border for the door—
we are in fact sleek hounds and dragons
trained to pirouette, to turn back
on ourselves and grip an arc

of spine or arm. Lintel-bound
by that great craftsman’s will,
we seethe above the kirk-yard’s
dociled beasts. Dragged

from sword-hilt, hull-prow—this
is what the Worm has come to.
We call down upon your flock the great dusk,
keen to start Asgard’s last cull.”