Enga mellom fjella: where from across the meadow, poems sing from mountains and molehills. |
Zmitrium oxide And here you hide behind your rust the slow corrosion staining all you touch. Your death streaks ochre tears. I thought of you as golden lust, pure, flexible, yet only holding to yourself. You've found another lover (was I ever good enough?) and now embrace her corrosive kiss. Your face flakes off in rainbow colored dust to wash away beneath these common rocks. O Zmitri, friable friend, I'd fling your essence to the furnace of the sun, eluviate with flux, remove the dross, leaving just the golden purity of what once was. © 2008 Kåre Enga [165.79] 2008-05-25 ME: I made it home before the storms last night. Bad storms southeast of us put on quite the show and sprinkled us for a moment or two. Called a friend this morning and he answered the phone! Unfortunately, I wasn't exactly awake and was surprised when he answered (I usually get the machine). Why can't everyone just be available at 2 a.m. when I'm awake. Watched most of the movie "Butterfield 8". Must finish tonight. Today, I got to the university. Read a book of valentines that poet Ted Kooser sent out yearly. Got some ideas ... Then ate my unagi, so I'm happy. WRITING: Have a lot of editing to do. I'm up to #103 for the year, so not too far behind. Must catch up on entering here: "Poetic journal Year 165 B.E." before I don't have extra time due to moving and everything that must be done before then. Kansas: 87º and sunny after nighttime storms. ** Image ID #1329288 Unavailable ** 5393 |