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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/982524-Laura-del-Campo/day/4-1-2017
Rated: 13+ · Book · Personal · #982524
Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation.
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L'aura del campo


'é a lua, é a lua, na quintana dos mortos'
♣ Federico García Lorca ♣


Higgins Street Bridge, April 25th  2009, Missoula, Montana


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 L*Flower2*V*Flower2* COMMENTS!

On a practical note, in answer to your questions:

Gifts from NOVAcatmando Author Icon kiyasama alfred booth, wanbli ska Author Icon ransomme Iowegian Skye Author Icon

Merit Badge in Reviewing
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For your support and suggestions on my haiku "Lone Poinsettia" which took second place in the contest and will be published.  Thanks for helping make it a winning poem! Merit Badge in Nano Winner
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CONGRATULATIONS on your achievement! *^*Bigsmile*^* Merit Badge in Reviewing
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For help finding a title for my first chapbook.  We're not there yet, but your ideas are always interesting.
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Thanks for being my friend.

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For brightening my day with your delightful offerings ~ Thank you so much! *^*Heart*^*


IN MEMORIUM

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passed away November 12, 2005

Please visit her port to read her poems and her writings.
More suggested links:

Murv Jacob's rendition of Cherokee Legend: the founding of Tahlequah
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 Kåre *Leaf5* Enga
~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go.
~ Elizabeth Bishop,
The Fish
April 1, 2017 at 10:54pm
April 1, 2017 at 10:54pm
#908141
Mouldering

Anger floats on oceans of fear,
the welling crests, the spray of outbursts,
the untruthfulness of calm

As once firm boundaries of land and sea erode,
the being of my being decomposed,
my flesh mutilated.

Anger fuels this loss of freedom,
the horror of disconnectedness,
the numbing of my senses;

worse, the ruination of my sense of Self.
What orange-red coating stains my aging House:
once diamond-hard, now rotting with rust.

© Kåre Enga [174.7] (1.avril.2017]

Version from earlier today:

Mouldering

Anger floats on a ocean of fear,
the welling crests, the spray of outbursts,
the untruthfulness of calm.

As once firm boundaries of land and sea erode,
the being of my being decomposed,
my flesh mutilated.

Anger fuels this loss of freedom,
the horror of disconnectedness,
the numbing of my senses;

worse, the ruination of my sense of Self.
What orange-red coating stains my aging House,
this once diamond-hard body,

rotting with rust.

© Kåre Enga [174.7] (1.avril.2017]


April 1, 2017 at 5:36pm
April 1, 2017 at 5:36pm
#908128
Lesser Prophet

Who few will remember my visions?
obliterate me by time and ennui, like
Obadiah barely notice my voice,
my solitary chapter,
my 21 verses?

© Kåre Enga [174.6] (1.April.2017)
80.589


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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/982524-Laura-del-Campo/day/4-1-2017