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 |
In the garden He approached me head held high, open arms suggesting more than a hug. I thought about his offer. Sure, he was tiny, but as cute as a bug can be. Unless you're me, big, bold and constantly hungry. It was my job to maintain the bowers. Make sure that pests didn't take over flowers. I earned my security badge daily. But I am who I am, no praying mantis but predator and — he was so cute — and eager! We mated. I bit off his head. Lament not for the dead. His sacrifice made a bountiful meal. Our offspring will protect this patch until winter comes. © Copyright 2022 Kåre Enga [178.373] (28.februar.2022) 14 lines... almost a sonnet. ![]() For February, 2022
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