Enga mellom fjella

Fragrance of dill

Fragrance of dill

         Groundhog Day 2008

On the back patio of Aimée's
in the calm of a warm afternoon,
ground still frozen where the sun can't touch,
he sits with dilled potato soup,
taking the buttered bread in hand,
and dips into memories
of Februaries:

slanted sleet or hoarfrost,
2 feet of blowing snow,
nights of crystalline moonshine,
endless days of clouds.

Today some old rodent speaks,
predicts there'll be six more weeks of this,
but the fragrance of dill brings him back to the moment.
He will gladly spoon it up.

© Kåre Enga 2008 [164.490] 2008-02-02

ME:

I'm fine. Saturday, I sat on the back patio of Aimée's and wrote the above poem. The potato dill soup was wonderful. Even the walk home at midnight was fine.

Yesterday was misty. Last night foggy. Today, warm. Which was good because I burnt some pork and had to air the house. Good day to air the house.

Been reading a lot of poetry which gets my mind doing sommersaults. Wrote a poem for a dear friend who just lost her husband of 53 years, but I must consult someone who knows her and someone who is Jewish to make sure it is appropriate. I want to honor the memories, not open wounds or write nonsense.

I do write nonsense!! That can be lots of fun!!! But I also am dead serious about many things. I'm not a Ha-Ha type of person.

Anywho, time to go back home and open the place up again. Tomorrow promises winter snow.

Kansas: 67º and breezy. Tomorrow cold again.

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