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 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 |
Any opinion which ones you like? Wintry haiku A snow, snow drifts, the daughters of snow — caws from winter's crow [291a] B ice glazes walkways — green pines tinkle as we fall [291b] C wind hollows drifts turning everything white — where did the mountains go [291c] D slip, slide, slush covers the walkways — one red coat [291d] E grey, grey, grey, more grey than the sky can hold — snow squalls [291e] F one dark spot amidst the 'spance of white — Ah, a crow [291f] G sunny beach day we arrive in shorts — locals shiver [291g] H pointsettia blooms — also red shorts and redder sunburn [291h] I so tired of rain, we rejoice with the sun — anyone thirsty? [291i] © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.291] (20.desember.2021) For Week #29
|