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: "Sentinel" "Where grows the compost heap" "Waterlily" "For Jeanette ... when she grows old" "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." "When is it proper to tell someone you love them?" "Half-naked dreams? 'Getting the stain out of genes!" "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 |
ME: It's cool and sunny in the morning this June. Love it. The dry skin caresses my skin and I think of the moisturizing cream I bought before I left. I love the cool that warms up to a pleasant 20 something degrees in the afternoon. Ah... June. The hills are still green...ish despite the dry spell. The river is running high from the snow-melt. We had lots of snow. There's enough moisture in the air to smell the iris and other flowers. My favorite month is May... this is just late-May. Long Springs in Western Montana. Where I grew up Spring came late and then spent one month catching up in a rush. Then Summer heat and humidity. Here it gets hot. Goes over 40 in July. Still 10 to 15 most nights though. Dry semi-desert. No humidity despite having a river run though it. Summer here only bothers me when we have fires. The ash in the air makes me choke. But today it's cool and sunny and ab-fab wonderful. Cool and sunny... like my father was... like a good friend still is... |