Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation. |
| Doubts You cannot count us; we dance before your eyes as motes or midges, enter you heart as pain or longing, myriad mounds of regret unmelting, closer than your life-vein. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.66] 8 line free verse (some alliteration and rhyme) prompt: myriad. For
|