Enga mellom fjella

Aer Greyhound somewhere over Washington

It was beautiful last night coming into Missoula from Idaho. The full moon cast black shadows of the pine on the glistening fields of snow. Magical.

Aer Greyhound somewhere over Washington

My tongue wags.
In this landscape of shorn wheat
my clack of teeth make the only sound,
this bus the only movement.
Lips move around the syllables
and sentences for hours.
Ephrata becomes nowhere, becomes
nothingness.

No birds, no trees, no need
to stop.

Wheels troll down a two lane highway.
My tongue rolls and never stops.

© Kåre Enga 2007 [164.387] 2007-11-23

Spoke to Hazel from Ephrata to Spokane. Almost non-stop. From Monroe to Ephrata, I had a delightful time with Ada Whitmore who makes corn-husk dolls among other things. She's 93 years young and keeps on going. She told me a lot about the landscape, what was, what willl be. She lives in Soap Lake.

Montana: 15º and calm.

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