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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/1317094-Enga-mellom-fjella/day/12-19-2020
Rated: 13+ · Book · Biographical · #1317094
Enga mellom fjella: where from across the meadow, poems sing from mountains and molehills.

Enga mellom Fjella




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

Late autumn

Reader's Choice of Poems:

"Zmitri
"Where grows the compost heap
"Between us
"For Jeanette ... when she grows old
"Willowsong


Reader's Choice of blog entries from my old blog "L'aura del Campo:

"Death of Jeannie New Moon
"Winter: 18 Mas'il (December 29)
"In a garden of roses, baby
"Footprints in the snow, in memory of Nyia Page
"Guitarman, a gift for Gary. Aaron Marable's art.

FACES




PLACES





Yellow cheer from sarah




 Kåre *Delight* Enga

~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go.
~ Elizabeth Bishop
The Fish
December 19, 2020 at 9:54pm
December 19, 2020 at 9:54pm
#1000527
The waft of garlic and the wooden stake in the corner should have warned me. A thin cackle should have made me turn around. But I'm curious, pale and not too bright when I wake up after a century.

I peaked around the half-opened door. An old hag was stirring a cauldron.

“I don’t have time for this.”

"You have nothing but time, my dear." The crone kept stirring.

"Look it's twilight and soon the vampires will be waking up.'

"Are you, a vampire slayer, afraid of that!" The cackle was full-throated now.

"No. I just want to make my quota."

"For the year or the decade?"

The young blond woman crossed her arms and said nothing.

"Been a bit of a drought, has it."

"I don't have time to talk."

"Do you have time to check on your boyfriend you sealed up in that coffin? It's about time for him to wake up."

I looked for a place to hide. I could hear the scream. "It's empty."

The crone laughed.

"I need that potion now! He won't escape if I hurry."

The crone smiled, said nothing and kept on stirring, sipping the ladle now and again.

"It's almost ready," she finally said.

"Good. Give me some now."

"Oh, it's not for you my dear. It's for him."

The crone's eyes beckoned. I should've known better.


© Copyright 2024 Kåre Enga in Montana (UN: enga at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Kåre Enga in Montana has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/1317094-Enga-mellom-fjella/day/12-19-2020