Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation. |
L'aura del campo 'é a lua, é a lua, na quintana dos mortos' ♣ Federico García Lorca ♣ L'aura del campo. A breeze in the meadow. So it began the last day of Spring, 2005; on the 16th day of the month of Light of the year 162. This is a supplement to my daily journal written to a friend, my muse; notes I do not share. Here I will share what the breeze has whispered to me. PLEASE LEAVE COMMENTS! I LV COMMENTS! On a practical note, in answer to your questions: IN MEMORIUM VerySara passed away November 12, 2005 Please visit her port to read her poems and her writings. More suggested links: These pictures rotate. Kåre Enga ~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go. ~ Elizabeth Bishop, The Fish |
Southbound Snow blizzards across the road, blurs the edge of the ditch. Southward bound with Mario, we slip over ice packed ruts, homeward bound after having left my house. Nerves grip the steering wheel. wheels grip whatever they can. Nunda looms in front of me, vanishes in the rear view mirror, A blip on some map. Between here and there, here becomes a moment to focus, to stay on the road, The snow embraces this white car on white road. In the back, Faith sits with Confidence, tensely gripping hands. © Kåre Enga [14.january.2017] |