Enga mellom fjella: where from across the meadow, poems sing from mountains and molehills. |
Sentinel Marked as if you own me I bow before the Bitterroots and just like you my rocky soil, my withered grass lays prey to the empty sky. © Kåre Enga 2007 "Sentinel" Reader's Choice of Poems: "Zmitri" "Where grows the compost heap" "In search of Iris" "At three" "Drugs sold here" Reader's Choice of blog entries from my old blog "L'aura del Campo" : "Death of Jeannie New Moon" "Doing and don'ting. A scene in 2nd person." "Even in chaos ... More hockey poems." "Footprints in the snow, in memory of Nyia Page" "Il pleure (poem). We R puddle-luscious, aujourd'hui." FACES PLACES Kåre Enga ~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go. ~ Elizabeth Bishop The Fish |
ME: I've set my writing aside as I must work on my habitation. On my second cup. Should I stop? Most of my books have to be boxed and moved out for the winter. What shall I keep? I have devised a strategy... Foiled again. Poem submission rejected. I was hoping to have more submissions sent by now... The snow level is lowering. Not yet to the valley floor but whatever warmth is left in the North-west has abandoned us till March. In election news: a proposition that would have hampered voting in Montana got lots of support but was defeated. That was the only good news. Me? I may as well travel as my housing situation may be difficult for a couple months. Reminds me of when I lived in Costa Rica. I had time and a squeaky clean place but little access to culture and my writing. Clutter and books become me. |