L'aura del Campo

Under a sweet grass sky

I'll probably upset some of my friends with an opinion I posted at Face Book just now, but after keeping my mouth shut for far too long about many things... I just have to let go and rant some times (hopefully a short and reasonable one).



Under a sweet grass sky

This firmament
pale color of sweet grass
woven into a basket to contain small scraps
of your fragrance I cherish
that will perish only when I do.

I stand here strapped
so I'm not blown to shreds,
dashed and spread upon infertile rocks,
like my unspoken words you've never read.

What brought me here if not my tears, Zmitri!
What keeps me here if not your ropes that bind me!

Find me heart-bound to you beyond this scrap of sky,
this howling wind that seeks to disembowel me,
your consonants cradling my every vowel.

I can almost hear your laughter in this freezing wind, dear friend.
Its soothing warmth sustains me.

© Kåre Enga 2010-08-17 [167.180]



Oh... haven't written a Zmitri poem in awhile... then I had to. It actually started from a stray thought about how "blue sky" is so cliche. A sweet-grass sky wouldn't be. It flowed from there.



Just old writings and I've caught up with some blogs.

Alas ...not yet, perhaps not today. It reached high 80s today. It's fallen to 67 and it's not even 8 pm. The dark grey sky has patches of pale blue.

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