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 |
What is this mother brought her a slice of who knows what pushed to the left pushed to the right swirled around the center spilled on the table slopped on the ground aunts and uncles cousins galore stuffed their faces as if they were starved what is this? goat on a stick? some sick joke? they laughed when she asked so she went back for more pretended to eat it pushed to the left pushed to the right slowly clearing the plate fed to the dog © Kåre Enga [177.202] (29.avgust.2020) 22 lines free verse August 2020 COOKOUT taboo words: food, barbecue, grill, gathering, beer or any derivatives of these words. For:
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Broken neck Sweet shy Viola cries out in pain, violets steeping in her teacup, violin's sad remains. © Kåre Enga [177.172] (2.avgust.2020) Prompt: violet Note: 3 syllables here not two. (9/9/6)
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