Enga mellom fjella: where from across the meadow, poems sing from mountains and molehills. |
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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'" "Where grows the compost heap" "Waterlily" "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" "Winter: 18 Mas'il (December 29)" "When is it proper to tell someone you love them?" "A Thanksgiving Dinner poem and the WDC Zoo" "Il pleure (poem). We R puddle-luscious, aujourd'hui." FACES ![]() PLACES ![]() ![]() Kåre ~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go. ~ Elizabeth Bishop The Fish |
| In God's Waiting Room we're attentive to each other; so, Willie invited us to join her for lunch. As a nurse she was used to serving others. The Swedish meatballs were soft, small, and brown with a creamy (but deadly) mushroom sauce. Sedated, Laxmi (our token vegan) nodded off first, then Kathi. I drank coffee to stay awake whilst Phil (a slow eater) seemed drowsy. Willie plopped meatballs. When Willie served cherry pie, Slow-Phil immediately dropped dead. Cyanide acts fast. Wille just laughed and then started to choke on a meatball. Too bad no one's left to help, I croaked. 100 words © Copyright 2024 Kåre Enga [181] (19.mai.2024) |