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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/982524-Laura-del-Campo/day/9-7-2016
Rated: 13+ · Book · Personal · #982524
Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation.
*Smile*          *Laugh*          *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:

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
September 7, 2016 at 5:51pm
September 7, 2016 at 5:51pm
#891753
Thoughts of silk (provisional title)

Caught between what was and what will be
I reweave these moments from unraveled strands
strengthen the web to support my breathing
one more day.

Silk runs through my fingers
patterns forming before closed lids.
One does not need eyes to see.

the rocks bloom in colors beyond paper walls
built 2 centuries after the fall from Grace,
from the ship that brought us here.
We mash beets. Soak corn.

Hollyhocks grow high around the lilacs.
Willows shade the beets; poison ivy protect the corn.
and the outhouse smells of rotting tomatoes.
It will need lime soon.

My hands flash between now and then,
pluck one errant strand that will not sing.
Discordant music pierces the calm.

This denial that all that was, all that will be
mere reused silk, now warp and weft
my hands have woven or will weave.

© Kåre Enga [6.september.2016 Missoula]

Random blitherings written during Xiong's poetry reading.






80.009


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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/982524-Laura-del-Campo/day/9-7-2016