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Tuesday, May. 21, 2024

6:03pm EDT

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Enga mellom fjella

by Kåre Enga in Montana

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"

Reader's Choice of Poems:

"Sentinel"

"Glice"

"Waterlily"

"La Bella Vita"

"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."

"In a garden of roses, baby"

"Holy day. Autumn in November. A mole."

"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

Show Recent Comments

10 Most Recent Blog Comments:

Kåre Enga in Montana

Apr 7, 2024 at 1:30am
In response to "M#2 rock 40w (4.mar.180) "Upon this rock""

Lyn's a Witchy Woman: The Rock always remembers until even it is worn away by wind and water, reduced to grains of sand.

As a child I felt safe alone in my summer-garden or winter-closet. I would have envied Harry Potter's nook under the stairs.

I have good night-vision. I see the hundred shades of black and grey.

Fortunately, I live in a world of a thousand colors by day.

Lyn's a Witchy Woman

Apr 7, 2024 at 12:43am
In response to "M#2 rock 40w (4.mar.180) "Upon this rock""

Will this castle bring her peace? you peace? me peace?

I miss the pitter=patter of little feet. Sometimes the loss overwhelms so much seek solitude in a place where darkness can only reside.

I wonder if you reside in the darkness too when I read your comments.

Kåre Enga in Montana

Dec 22, 2023 at 10:34am
In response to ""No Gift From Santa This Year" D22 #17 40w 'poverty'"

Anni Pon Perhaps overdone on the references. Glad you picked up on 'venison'. 40 words makes it tight.

I was homeless years after I took in refugees. Folks did help me. Maybe that thought was lurking in the back of my mind. "Homeless" is a deadly label in so many ways. I left Kansas for Montana in 2008 because I wanted to start anew.

Anni Pon

Dec 22, 2023 at 9:14am
In response to ""No Gift From Santa This Year" D22 #17 40w 'poverty'"

I love this idea, and all the references and imagery. Especially the line: ‘Poverty was a red-nosed light-bulb flashing "homeless”…’ it’s really tragic to think of the jolly man who gives everyone gifts every year in such dire straits he has to eat his rain deer, and no one would help him….

Harlow Flick, Right Fielder

Jul 15, 2023 at 11:54am
In response to "Safety in numbers [180.57] 40w J1 "tiny""

I like the details, and anyone called Jojo the dwarf.

Harlow Flick, Right Fielder

Jul 15, 2023 at 11:52am
In response to "Lo, the nightingale [180.58] J2 40w "high" "

Fun piece.

Called to mind The Beatles number.

Kåre Enga in Montana

May 12, 2023 at 8:33pm
In response to "Hidden places [13+] P#3"

Apondia Definite loss of habitat in Thailand. Elephants have a hard time as do 100 species of birds. Humans tend to not know what they have until it's all gone. Very anthrocentric.

Apondia

May 12, 2023 at 9:38am
In response to "Hidden places [13+] P#3"

I've read about the monkey problems in India and a couple other countries. I also read about loss of habitat as causes.

Kåre Enga in Montana

May 12, 2023 at 3:45am
In response to "Not a luau [13+] P#4"

Wordsmitty ✍️ LOPBURI MONKEY BANQUET FESTIVAL... be there! End of November. They set a buffet in honor of the macaques that lure the tourists into town.

Maybe I should go this year?

Wordsmitty ✍️

May 12, 2023 at 2:42am
In response to "Not a luau [13+] P#4"

Monkeys love all kinds of fruit. A nice fruit salad would make them happy at a party. Andre on the other hand, ...

April 18, 2020 at 1:50pm

#981417

Old Bob plants his garden [39]

Inspired by a photo (below) for bobturn's free verse contest. This is definitely NOT free verse! I'll have to write another from a different perspective and get this rhythm and rhyme scheme out of my head.

Old Bob plants his garden

In my winter, withered, worn,
I plan for what's to come.

For I cannot stop in springtime
when life has scarce begun.

And I cannot leave when summer
corn withers without rain.

And I cannot die in autumn
before harvesting the grain.

Wobbly I lean onto the barrow
clad in my tattered shirt.

Battered I hold fast to the ground,
my hands deep in cold dirt.

This is where I planted catnip,
there my beloved cat.

This is where I want to be planted
beneath that turnip patch.

Each season is but one short battle;
there is no time for fun.

Prop me up in this garden plot.
My work here isn't done.

KE [177.39] (18.april.2020)

** Image ID #2219311 Unavailable **

56.835

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