Enga mellom fjella

Snail

Snail

Not mine.
And not available.
No more than my first crush.
No less than the last.

You move as fast as you can
and leave a trail of slime
that I could follow
if I would.

Oh,
to pause,

move slow enough,
make time stand still
like a photograph of me when I was 22,
engraved and cherished by my memory.

A place that you,
with persistent patience, measured moments,
travel through.

© 2008 Kåre Enga [165.349] 2008-11-22

Written only a month ago, but ... what was the prompt?

BLAH BLAH BLAH (when will he ever shut up ...):

No ... I'll never shut up. You can silence me by tying up my hands, but I'll still stick out my tongue.

So much to do. My 'zine will come out late. I know what I need to do. I have no energy.

The snow is falling like a picture postcard today. Just beautiful. And temps have moderated.

I'm at the Senior Center having had a lunch of Turkey, pumpkin cheesecake, the works. Maybe it's just the repast, the sense of feeling full that fools me into wanting to nap. If I hurry, I can scurry off to the candle shop. My room reeks the fragrance of spent geraniums. I'll find some pine or vanilla, perhaps catch a snowflake to and fro.

BLOGVILLE

Thanks to everyone for the recent comments. Not everyone does well at this season and words of cheer or just plain words! means a lot.

Montana: 15º at 14:45

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