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 |
Peevish I pet my peeves... one at a time. Some purr like a kitty that uses its claws. Some dogs wag tails until they bite. I try to be kind and stay away from birds (to protect my eyes). I don't know where this is going... I have many peeves I try to pet. Many peeves that make me sweat. Do not pet the sweaty ones. they told me. Well... I don't listen. Ah... to be never offended, to never be angry. I'll get there someday... when I'm dead. © Kåre Enga [174.29] 80.691 |
Cherokee County Cemetery, 2004 Aguyuh-carved Pillars rest among Red-ferns where double-weave Baskets sieve Thoughts and Moon hushes Sun. Sounds silence Touch before Blindness and Bluets bring me to my Knees as Henbit violets cool Mornings before Letting-go when Evening's Glory unbinds us and Orange lichens Loose-rocks. © Kåre Enga (12.abril.2017) [174.28] |