Enga mellom fjella

Market Day. "Remains of a juvenile delinquent"

Saturday = Market Day: nicer than the winds of last week, tarps asailing, money blowing down the street.

Today the radishes and dried flowers calmly bask in sun. Feta's fresh and art is arranged to be handled and bought.

I eat a beef sandwich, drooling at the turkey drumstick passing as a meaty ice-cream cone.

The Wildlife Film Fest begins too. Pelts of bear and wolf. Children dressed up for the parade. A week to invite the world to town.

I saw Jamie, Courtney, Robin and Hobie.

Everyone struggles to survive till Spring and market time.

Remains of a juvenile delinquent

         after Anna Lisa

Come see these scrapings
words she carved in antique wood,
all that's left of a bored young girl
whittled with knife,
while she ignored the teacher,
not listening to meaningless lies.

Look back in time
and see this deaf-mute child carving her name,
onto this old school desk.

Say she proved her existence to you.
Pray that someone someday cared.
Tell her you recognize how hard she tried to be your savior.

Know she loved you,
never blamed you,

only needed you to take her hand,
remove the knife,
gently stroke her palm against your cheek

like the way she'd teach her yet-to-be-born son.

© Kåre Enga [166.51] 2009-05-09

The above poem "166.51** Remains of a juvenile delinquent"  was inspired and gleaned from a May 9th entry by AL "Invalid Entry"  Hopefully she will make a poem/prose out of it herself; but, I couldn't wait, so I did.

Montana: Sunny-cloudy. Mild 60s.

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