L'aura del Campo

Along the Akerselva

Along the Askerselva

She stood silent, her hooded eyes like night
embers that burnt through the bullshit of sunlight.

She watched those who biked down worn pebbled paths
those who then abandoned greased chains in the river
for a scooter wending past addicts, still too young
to understand what they were too old to not see.
Until that too was abandoned to the flowing ditch
for dirt tracks and high speed, the drift
of it all raising a thin puff of dirt,
obscuring the child who once looked towards some future
obscuring a memory looking back at her standing there.

She still stands there, silent, her hooded eyes like night.

© Kåre Enga [11.mars.2017]

Note: a fiction based on a walk down the Askerelva that runs through Oslo, Norway.

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