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: "Zmitri" "Where grows the compost heap" "A radiant moon has set" "Boise City" "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." "Even in chaos ... More hockey poems." "Footprints in the snow, in memory of Nyia Page" "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 |
Here you come again ... to burn my skin, cast terrifying shadows, blot out nuances, all shades of grey. I rue the day you return to make me start all over again. Like a river rinsing away the splotches of thoughts, or wind scattering them to where I can't follow. How can I gather them? Dry them out? or ... And here you come again with the promise that this time you'll be gentle, not seek to fry my brains, reduce me to dust, suck all wisdom out. But in the end it's always the same blank page. Clean! That's what YOU say, as I mourn my life's wrinkles, now denied hurts and pains, those 'insignificant' trinkets that evoke memories, what I can no longer remember. KE [177.69] (8 mai 2020) (23 lines) for
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