Enga mellom fjella: where from across the meadow, poems sing from mountains and molehills. |
Sentinel Marked as if you own me I bow before the Bitterroots and just like you my rocky soil, my withered grass lays prey to the empty sky. © Kåre Enga 2007 "Sentinel" Reader's Choice of Poems: "Zmitri" "Where grows the compost heap" "Tales told over scones and hot tea" "Speak soft my name" "Drugs sold here" Reader's Choice of blog entries from my old blog "L'aura del Campo" : "Death of Jeannie New Moon" "Doing and don'ting. A scene in 2nd person." "When is it proper to tell someone you love them?" "Holy day. Autumn in November. A mole." "Guitarman, a gift for Gary. Aaron Marable's art." FACES PLACES Kåre Enga ~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go. ~ Elizabeth Bishop The Fish |
Am I? ME, myself, and... I no longer know whether I'm being honest or just negative. I do know that today I want to take a nap in spite of how beautiful it is outside. I could read... but even that takes effort. I'm at the Drop Dead Den (a.k.a. the Senior Center) having eaten eggs, bacon and blueberry pancakes for lunch. Breakfast was buttered reheated roasted buttercup squash. Maybe I'm suffering from an overdose of butter? Last night I went to one of my writers' groups. Listened to their stories and wrote another scene from my NaNoWriMo offering, Wound. That went fine but then I went to poetry workshop and no one was there... Not happy about that. I have things to do most every day. But... I still want a nap. 52,328 |