L'aura del Campo

Autumn of Ebola & Bare unaware

Autumn of Ebola

We sat as far apart as decent,
dared not breathe without our masks.
We whispered, wailed, wondered.
What would come at last?

Crossroads of soil and flesh,
these polluted waters of blood
confuse us, lead us to question doubts
before the storm and the flood.

© Kåre Enga - 7 October 2014


Bare unaware

Robert floated down the river,
bare ass burning in the sun.
The raft bouncing, slowly moving
with the current, around the rocks.

He slept arms and legs lashed together.
Children pointed at him as he passed.
Under the bridge, head turned, he breathed.
Too bad he'd never wake up.

© Kåre Enga - 9 October 2014

Two dreary poems. Posted because? That's what I do.

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