you strain to follow conversations
practice simple sentences in your head
dread the inevitable question that will
freeze you with incomprehension
your accent is getting better
more Norwegian, less French
but that has drawbacks
people assume more fluency
speak more quickly
you’re swept into a riptide
of conversation
you struggle to break the surface
in currents of syllables and sounds
at night
you draw the shades
and collapse
you’ve never
focused so intently
listened so hard
just to function
is a herculean effort
by the end of the day
your head is lead
on your pillow
you sleep the sleep
of the dead
you rarely
think about home
then
the first letter arrives