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 |
| I whisper across the waiting room as if my thoughts can't be heard by the ghosts that gather there, under the covers of dust and undreamt fears the roamed through my life. I don't know yet that I'm one of them, dearly departed, soon to be missed, already forgotten. I mumble in a hush to not wake the dead who still remember when I could run, too shy to dance, too shy to speak, too fearful to look in mirrors that can't reflect my nothingness. There is no hurry, no urge to move on from a place where I never lived. © Kåre Enga 14.desember.2025 14 lines |