Enga mellom fjella: where from across the meadow, poems sing from mountains and molehills. |
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: "'heart's home'" ![]() "In Lagada, la vita" ![]() "Tales told over scones and hot tea" ![]() "Speak soft my name" ![]() "Plain cover jacket" ![]() 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?" ![]() "Tupac and more poetry" ![]() "Czernina (Dirk's-blood-soup?) and Murv Jacob's mural" ![]() FACES ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() PLACES ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() Kåre ![]() ~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go. ~ Elizabeth Bishop The Fish |
Without light there are no shadows, without pain no knowledge of joy I hide underneath stairs until there's no glimmer of light. At twilight I can move about without my familiar. I prefer clouds. Snow storms are best. Stars just twinkle; but ... they don't know Shadow. I was born with him. We're twins joined at the foot. We never talk. My aunt always sings, till all pain becomes one with joy and all darkness merges with light She was born with a shadow too. She doesn't seem to mind. still each New Moon beams innocent until shadows start to appear. |