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 Enga mellom fjella: where from across the meadow, poems sing from mountains and molehills. |
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Enga mellom Fjella  Sentinel Marked as if you own me I bow before the Bitterroots and just like you my rocky soil, my withered grass lays prey to the empty sky. © Kåre Enga 2007 "Sentinel"   Reader's Choice of Poems: "Zmitri" "Glice" "Tales told over scones and hot tea" "At three" "Drugs sold here" Reader's Choice of blog entries from my old blog "L'aura del Campo" :"Death of Jeannie New Moon" "Doing and don'ting. A scene in 2nd person." "When is it proper to tell someone you love them?" "Footprints in the snow, in memory of Nyia Page" "Il pleure (poem). We R puddle-luscious, aujourd'hui." FACES     PLACES            Kåre  Enga~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go. ~ Elizabeth Bishop The Fish |
| And I was green. Green as green could be until you turned blue, holding your breath and waiting for my response. I could tell you now. You've been dead 50 years. I still see your kind eyes. So sad I never got to know the heartbeat behind them. There's nothing left but a single memory and a friend who resembles you in so many ways. He was born nine months after your death. I haven't seen him in years. I've told him how I feel. Now I'm the one who waits. How many years remain until we meet again. Not all things match up. Not all ends meet where they can be tied and bound together. Your winter will become my spring; your summer my beloved's autumn. And seasons are recycled, but never the same. I remember your name. You know my answer. ~143 words needs editing or change of form. |
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