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 |
The harvest sky booms He erupts with anger She protects their daughter Cinders block all paths; smoke suffocates everything in advance. No one has a chance, as heat sears all to dust just one last breath. Yet they flee for cover one quick kiss—forever Centuries have passed and we will never know their given names. Nothing now remains, only hollows encased in hardened ash. © Kåre Enga [176.12] (30.march.2019) |