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 |
Only one exit after Leanne O'Sullivan So many windows, so many doors though only one exit. He holds his friends close, his insanity closer. He hoards dreams, but never share nightmares. He lives them. Only a narrow way out looms final. He bites his knuckles, pops his pimples, tries doors, pries open windows. He never leaves. Fifty years later his body has healed, but the only way out hasn't widened. © Kåre Enga (26.april.2017) [174.52] |
Cleaning up my life... ...I place memories in a box to take with me, to take to the trash. So much crap that cluttered the view. So few goodbyes. I would keep them all, just in case. That was my way; but, today a new journey, old baggage must go. Come take a look. Should you find a book or bauble you cherish, keep it. I'll have no use for it where I'm going. © Kåre Enga (26.avril.2017) [174.51] |