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 |   Enga mellom fjella: where from across the meadow, poems sing from mountains and molehills. |
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Enga mellom Fjella  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" "Glice" "In search of Iris" "At three" "Starbeams on Tulsa" Reader's Choice of blog entries from my old blog "L'aura del Campo" :"Death of Jeannie New Moon" "Winter: 18 Mas'il (December 29)" "When is it proper to tell someone you love them?" "Holy day. Autumn in November. A mole." "James Doohan, Scotty. Ombra mai fu. Eutin Guitar Orchestra" FACES     PLACES            Kåre  Enga~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go. ~ Elizabeth Bishop The Fish |
| Day 3: “They’re coming to get you, Barbara.” —Johnny, Night of the Living Dead Barbara and Johnny... and me. No, Barbara. No one is coming to get us. We're always left behind. Like holey socks and underwear, useless except as rags to sop up the blood and tears. I say my prayers every time Johnny goes out. Sigh with relief if he doesn't come back with a kill. He's out prowling tonight. Beware. ... Yes, Barbara. I fixed your favorite fish dish: anchovy pizza with creamy white sauce on the thinnest crust I could make. You oughta learn how to bake, Barbara. ... Johnny, what a pleasure to see you! No, there isn't any pizza left. Barbara... Yeah, I know. She's a bit of a glutton. But she's eating for five these days. What? You didn't know? ... Barbara! Noooooo. Not in my bed! ... What's that you say? Yes, I can find parents for your puppies. Just don't leave them for me to care. And... don't expect Johnny to be much help. Yes. He did drop off a mouse this morning. He's out there prowling again. I told him a rabbit would be better but he likes rabbits. As friends. Here's some cut up chicken and tuna. No, you can't have my porkchop. ... Look, Johnny. Aren't they cute? ... Hey, you two. I just got a call. I need to go out this morning. Old Hoot has a hard case to solve. He says he needs me to interpret. Yeah, yeah, I may just be a lowly parrot (his words, not mine. I think I'm magnificent) but I'm multi-lingual. One informant is a horse. ... No, Johnny, you're not a suspect. But Barbara... Just between you and me she ought to be careful. I think someone's out to get her. © Kåre Enga (22.oktober.2024) ~279 words |
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