Enga mellom fjella

Unbound

Unbound

Bindweed is blooming;
tap roots keep burrowing
through sand to find water.

This sea of white stars,
these trumpets of pink,
greet the wisps of mist,
pearl cast on blue sky.

I peer at white anthers,
to deep gold cupped centers
where five nectaries lie.

So sweet;
I wonder why you cried
that we were bound here forever.

I pluck one pink strumpet;
unaware it has died,
it still gives forth beauty
but no longer binds.

© 2008 Kåre Enga [165.215] 2008-08-22

ME:

My cousin called to ask me what I wanted at her daughter's wedding. That would be Saturday, I think. I'm not going ... two days on the bus, $400 round trip ... I think I'll send money instead [my cousin is going deep into debt]. There are heart-wrenching reasons to not go. I wish she understood.

It was hot today. I stopped at the River Fest; but, I just didn't want to sit in the heat and listen to music.

I would have had a philly steak sub if they would've taken my order! So I went to the The Break instead. Much quieter and cooler.

I'm home; my wash should be ready soon. Afterall, it's Sunday.

Montana: 95º at 19:00.

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