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 |
Shuttered I shutter my windows; cuddle with my cat; my house has no doors. I withdraw from humans, only order out, make minimal contact. I have no need to know, who brings me books or pizza, who takes out the trash. I keep things to myself: my name, my age, my shoe-size, what I'm all about. Hopes and dreams and nightmares, let go of long ago, lurk below the window. Breezes rattle questions; awake, the cat wants answers; the shutters want some too. Only at my days end Will I give my pen permission to say what it must. Kåre Enga [174.65] (2.may.2017) |