Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation. |
L'aura del campo 'é a lua, é a lua, na quintana dos mortos' ♣ Federico García Lorca ♣ L'aura del campo. A breeze in the meadow. So it began the last day of Spring, 2005; on the 16th day of the month of Light of the year 162. This is a supplement to my daily journal written to a friend, my muse; notes I do not share. Here I will share what the breeze has whispered to me. PLEASE LEAVE COMMENTS! I LV COMMENTS! On a practical note, in answer to your questions: IN MEMORIUM VerySara passed away November 12, 2005 Please visit her port to read her poems and her writings. More suggested links: These pictures rotate. Kåre Enga ~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go. ~ Elizabeth Bishop, The Fish |
Hugo His eyes follow me; his heartwood hidden by the fumes of scotch. His letters were delivered long ago but still remembered in Pony and Dixon, memorialized in black typeface on white papers pressed between covers sitting on shelves. Silent but not forgotten they wait for gentle hands, an opening to a page where his words point the way for fellow poets. "Listen to the hearts of people", they admonish, "the voice of the patient land". In the weft and warp hear them weave; honor their journey; give them wings of flight. © Kåre Enga [1.diciembere.2016] Sitting with Ann Bodle-Nash in the Dell Brown Room listening to a reading (Hannah Bissell?). |