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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/982524-Laura-del-Campo/day/4-6-2019
Rated: 13+ · Book · Personal · #982524
Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation.
*Smile*          *Smirk*          *Yawn*

L'aura del campo


'é a lua, é a lua, na quintana dos mortos'
♣ Federico García Lorca ♣


Higgins Street Bridge, April 25th  2009, Missoula, Montana


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 L*Flower2*V*Flower2* COMMENTS!

On a practical note, in answer to your questions:

Gifts from NOVAcatmando kiyasama alfred booth, wanbli ska ransomme Iowegian Skye

Merit Badge in Reviewing
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For your support and suggestions on my haiku "Lone Poinsettia" which took second place in the contest and will be published.  Thanks for helping make it a winning poem! Merit Badge in Nano Winner
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CONGRATULATIONS on your achievement! *^*Bigsmile*^* Merit Badge in Reviewing
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For help finding a title for my first chapbook.  We're not there yet, but your ideas are always interesting.
Merit Badge in Funny
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Merit Badge in Friendship
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Thanks for being my friend.

Hugz! 

grannym Merit Badge in Appreciation
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For brightening my day with your delightful offerings ~ Thank you so much! *^*Heart*^*


IN MEMORIUM

VerySara

passed away November 12, 2005

Please visit her port to read her poems and her writings.
More suggested links:

Murv Jacob's rendition of Cherokee Legend: the founding of Tahlequah
These pictures rotate.



 Kåre *Leaf5* Enga
~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go.
~ Elizabeth Bishop,
The Fish
April 6, 2019 at 4:35pm
April 6, 2019 at 4:35pm
#955950
The chartreuse swamps of home

Zoom past
a vast green expanse
sweeping between horizons:
islands of jade colored sticks,
puddles of seafoam, emerald
quagmire and quicksand
oozing in between
arranged like a still-life
under a gloomy sage bowl.

It could be Kansas,
except for the water;
its emptiness will remind you
of bears in Belarus—
but this isn't Earth—
and you're not human—
anymore.

The moaning wind never stops;
yet, you only feel it on slick skin.
The smell of rot surrounds you
but you can't tell without a nose.
Your friends can't see you;
no one has eyes.
Once you had a thousand ears;
now you hear nothing.

Wiggle roots where once you had feet.
Let your blueblood rise to stretch out
what once were your arms.
Mouth at a vermillion star:

PRY OPEN OUR BUDS

and wait for the gloom to part.

Far from
the chartreuse swamps of home
you bloom


© Kåre Enga [176.25.gz] (6.abril.2019)

Written sitting in the tub. The prompt was "bloom".
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