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 |
Wraith of His Realm brought to you by the letter R and puce, the color of a fading bruise Rumbles kept him alive, reminded him what remained of todays, presents he rejected. He reminisced of once being ten, the _____ he could not recollect. Even that... had been repossessed. Rigid, he sat at a window stared at a river raging over rocks heard the rhythm of the roads floating over flat roofs up to where he rested secure in his corner, the Wraith of His Realm, afraid of going out. © Kåre Enga (22.april.2017) [174.45] 80,796 |