Architecture, colorful, bold, and fine
Scandinavians revere good design
Arrays of wind turbines perched on the sea
I recall my passport is not with me
I left the passport back at the hotel
Would this wreck my day’s plans? I could not tell
The train pulled in promptly at half past ten
Its destination was Malmo, Sweden
On this next leg we’d be leaving Denmark
To board with no passport would be a lark
The conductor steps out on the platform
He’s bald with glasses and his manner’s warm
He wears a long and pointy, waxed mustache
Like Salvador Dali’s, it has panache
I tell him the details of my ordeal
He says my chances are far from ideal
Sometimes custom officials in the crew
Are careless and don’t bother to come through
But if they catch you without a passport
They will not hesitate to think, “Deport!”
“What will you do?” he queries with a glance
“Oh, what the hell,” I said, “I’ll take a chance”
Then over the loudspeaker on the train
“Have your passports ready!” is the refrain
Each time I hear it I am gripped with fear
And then I see two policemen appear
At this sight my face becomes contorted
Because I know I might be deported
They stop at each passenger one by one
And when they get to me, I think, “I’m done”
Despite the fact that I am feeling tense
I calmly hand him my driver’s license
He looks at it and gives it back to me
Without a word he leaves me, then I see
The risk has passed, my plan worked like a charm
Nobody was injured, no foul, no harm
Salvador laughs with a thumbs-up symbol
And just at that moment, I reach my goal
The train has stopped at the Malmo station
My unease is replaced with elation
I feel like I have just lifted a curse
Syrian refugees have it much worse
As I disembark, I tell Salvador
“I’ve written a poem of Danish lore
A poem of suspense, intrigue and guile
And you are in it,” He cracked a big smile