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 |
Sidewalks Where do sidewalks go when there is no one left to walk them. When the poor have left town in search of work. When the hungry and homeless huddle by doors. When the winter-bound do not venture away from hearths. When snow-birds seek sunnier sidewalks down south. What of Pompeii ... once covered in ash. What of Atlantis ... leagues under water. What sidewalks will miss us when we too have passed. © Kåre Enga [17.mars.2017] |