L'aura del Campo

Beverly

Today's scribble

Beverly

She crochets rows of deep blue and purple,
yarn blooming green, orange and yellow,
recites poetry she wrote
in nineteen-sixty-four.
She rides the bus with her bags of wool,
tells us yarns to pass the time,
this grey-haired lady of five-hundred miles,
Tacoma and her children left behind;
fifteen-hundred yet to go, while
Indianapolis yawns at the end of the line.

© Kåre Enga [166.358] 2010-02-24

Sketching it out:

Beverly and I talked on the bus from Monroe (NorthWest Lines) to Missoula. She was a fascinating fellow traveler.

Thou:

I'm hoping you-all are doing fine. Finally figured out how I can use the one computer if I stick to wi-fi. Broadband? What little time I've had I've spent on FB because I'm still leery of it. 77 friends though... and Acme just found me.

Me and Mine:

The sun is out! The sun is out!

Writing group is tonight so it's time to go to the library and make a copy of recent works.

Miss A. Lou: Some sun and mild 36º at 4 pm Montana Standard Time.

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