Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation. |
L'aura del campo 'é a lua, é a lua, na quintana dos mortos' ♣ Federico García Lorca ♣ L'aura del campo. A breeze in the meadow. So it began the last day of Spring, 2005; on the 16th day of the month of Light of the year 162. This is a supplement to my daily journal written to a friend, my muse; notes I do not share. Here I will share what the breeze has whispered to me. PLEASE LEAVE COMMENTS! I LV COMMENTS! On a practical note, in answer to your questions: IN MEMORIUM VerySara passed away November 12, 2005 Please visit her port to read her poems and her writings. More suggested links: These pictures rotate. Kåre Enga ~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go. ~ Elizabeth Bishop, The Fish |
An elegy for Katya You read my daily thoughts that wander lost among the dead I once wrote about, now saddened by doubts that I cannot leave caught by the weave of life yet tired beyond exhaustion. I'm not fond of staying, just praying, that I may still be of some use. Maybe I'm being obtuse. Should someone hold me, I'd hug them back for free; if not, please let me know so I can go and wander lost until I shed this dross. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.45] (14.april.2021) I've written alot about death. Being homeless meant witnessing death. "A radiant moon has set" "Byron Lynn" "Knowing it lies beyond" "Picking up the trash" "Dream a bigger dream" But not only the homeless die. "The sound of lavender" "Joseph's Coat" "In a twinkling [#11 Robert French]" A friend wanted me to write from the mouse's perspective. "Of mice, owls and moonflowers" And there's always famous people. "Scotty's last lament (James Doohan)" "You always knew how to fly [366]" I may have to make this into an item. For:
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