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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/982524-Laura-del-Campo/day/4-7-2017
Rated: 13+ · Book · Personal · #982524
Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation.
*Smile*          *Rolleyes*          *Cool*

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:

Along Route 56 in Southwest Kansas, July 2004.
These pictures rotate.



 Kåre *Leaf5* Enga
~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go.
~ Elizabeth Bishop,
The Fish
April 7, 2017 at 5:19pm
April 7, 2017 at 5:19pm
#908593
Not one iota

He won't pull off the mask he's worn since childhood,
the mist and mirrors mere camouflage,
for his childish fits, his golfing outfits.

He won't reveal the layers behind his lies.
They fit like corsets, dark, constraining;
he speaks in monosyllabic voice,
a juvie choice that never grew
like the belt around his belly.

Button his lips, cross his tees, un-gag his Xes!
Let loose the asses from his tottering cart!

Not one dot, one jot, not one iota...
dare to masquerade as his tiny heart.

© Kåre Enga [174.18] (6.avril.2017)

Dew Drop Inn Day #7: "tiny"


© Copyright 2024 Kåre Enga in Montana (UN: enga at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Kåre Enga in Montana has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/982524-Laura-del-Campo/day/4-7-2017