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 |
Fanning flames We talk like we used to talk. Wind raging. Embers lifting to skies. Flames everywhere we walked. Good times, Zmitri. Worlds knew our footsteps from light years away. Then the cooling off. You went your way; I went mine. The separation killed me so many times. Each epoch Age I fanned the flames hoping to entice your breeze. Now we walk as we always walk. And the ground trembles with your laughter. Even stars hail our reunion, wink at you and I and us. © Kåre Enga [25.novembre.2016] |