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 |
Wavelengths Sharp bones of pelicans and fish poked at the margins of her mind. Here where pebbles waged war on her soles as warm liquid tried to soothe them. This dank place of death and renewal where verge of mountain and water met, as if — to make a resolution, as if — to help her forget. Glass glistened among grey stones while seals watched from afar. Even here there were eyes — did they judge her? The day cooled as a breeze picked up; it blew her thoughts across the bay. There behind a rock she could not see, her lover summoned the spray — to send her back an answer. © Kåre Enga (24.juni.2020) [177.105] 17 lines For June 2020:
A DAY AT THE BEACH taboo words: beach,sand,sea,shells,beachball or any derivatives of these words |