Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation. |
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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 L 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 ~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go. ~ Elizabeth Bishop, The Fish |
| Pink A frosted glow upon cold-frosted pine, the golden birch now naked. White-november news. And the smells of baking rye, the taste of coffee by-the-pot, the constant purr of cat. All noise hushed by snow. You aren't here, no loving touch. Today dims grey and slush adorns the weeping willow. Catclaws remind it's time to wake up, time to move on to another. © Kåre Enga (1.noviembre.2017) [174.287] 81.682 |