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: "'heart's home'" "In Lagada, la vita" "Waterlily" "At three" "Plain cover jacket" 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." "A Thanksgiving Dinner poem and the WDC Zoo" "James Doohan, Scotty. Ombra mai fu. Eutin Guitar Orchestra" FACES PLACES Kåre Enga ~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go. ~ Elizabeth Bishop The Fish |
Today... ? Nothing I'm likely to share. I did visit the train station, São Bento. Marvellous azulejos (tiles). Also went to the Bolhão market, but the day was wasted mostly as I had no energy. Breakfast was better at hostels in Lisboa and Coimbra but enough. I have no appetite. Ate a panado de peru (whatever that is) and goat cheese for supper. At least Pingo Doce has cheap food and it's around the corner. Almost 10 pm and place feels ghostly. Nice chat with young French women last night... but no one here in common room at moment. I can only hope folks aren't loud when they reappear. Groups of travelers can be very disrespectful of others. It's as if no one exists outside their circle. I did better with Portuguese today. If I were here a month, especially if I were studying, I'd do okay. People in Porto seem nice. |