Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation. |
L'aura del campo 'é a lua, é a lua, na quintana dos mortos' ♣ Federico García Lorca ♣ L'aura del campo. A breeze in the meadow. So it began the last day of Spring, 2005; on the 16th day of the month of Light of the year 162. This is a supplement to my daily journal written to a friend, my muse; notes I do not share. Here I will share what the breeze has whispered to me. PLEASE LEAVE COMMENTS! I LV COMMENTS! On a practical note, in answer to your questions: IN MEMORIUM VerySara passed away November 12, 2005 Please visit her port to read her poems and her writings. More suggested links: These pictures rotate. Kåre Enga ~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go. ~ Elizabeth Bishop, The Fish |
Days darken in Oslo. Green-winter fades to yellow prays for a blanket of white. All's right. Except this gnawing at my bones. They're weary, ready to rest, to mould. In Portugal warmth fills fragrant air; here a chill breeze blows. My inner-bear seeks food to prepare for slumber. I buy a duck sandwich with extra meat, my meal of the day I eat... wandering through art filled streets. "Duck in heaven" ... may my soul join its long plucked feathers. © Kåre Enga (20.oktober.2017) [174.281] Note: duck = and; spirit = ånd in Norwegian... I suspect it's a bit of a pun. |