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 |
Oval We went round and round never crossing the street on a bike or a tricycle we rode, no one to greet that we didn't already know. Shaped like a kidney bean, we knew who lived where. And where the sidewalk buckled we walked with care through puddles or snow. It was our kingdom's boundaries: hopscotch chalked, grass freshly mown, where under trees we talked about crayons, said hello to Queenie, Judy's dog, her older sisters, her working parents, all the missus and misters and the occasional crow ... ... who knew where we lived. © Kåre Enga [177.16] (2.april.2020) 104.021 Note: xaxae, xbxbe, xcxce,xdxde. Written for the April 2nd Dew Drop Inn prompt: draw (in words) a map of where you live now or lived as a child. |