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 |
Two versions (different line breaks); could use a new title. In the market of life A. My heart leaps exposed, protected only by a smile and a cage of bone. This is what you see. This is what you want to see. I hold up the mirrored shard. Thin slices of glass and silver, a weapon of hide and seek. I hide. You seek. In the market of life are you a buyer? Know this: I am never on sale. © Kåre Enga [176.30] (8.aprille.2019) B. Different line breaks: My heart leaps exposed, protected only by a smile and a cage of bone. This is what you see. This is what you want to see. I hold up the mirrored shard. Thin slices of glass and silver, a weapon of hide and seek. I hide. You seek. In the market of life are you a buyer? Know this: I am never on sale. 101.002 |