L'aura del Campo

There comes a softening... (L1,L2,L3,L4)

There comes a softening...

...to day old bread—
when soaked in milk and eggs.
...to raisins graced by rum—
then mixed
and oven baked—
when placed in bowls or plates—
to disappear.

© Kåre Enga [171.L1]

There comes a softening...

...to cleaned starched sheets—
as the sweat of living
seeps into their pores—
as nightmares toss and turn
or weep—
as dreams clutch, release
their inner ichor.

© Kåre Enga [171.L2]

There comes a softening...

...when Time crawls—
and depression
finds expression
in inanities.

Hard Facts?
Hard Truths?
Without Time—
there remains this muddying.

© Kåre Enga [171.L3]

There comes a softening...

...to the arm
that stiff from working
—dusk till dawn—
soaks up the lotion, and—

...to the feet
that wearied rest—
immobile in a bucket
full of steam.

© Kåre Enga 11.January.2015. [171.L4]