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 |
G7 Summit We all stand there and chatter about the hot weather, and whether and when and how we resist this great threat. We all gather together to take a group photo, get out of the way of one who aspires to be great. And that is the real problem, for those chosen to lead: we-all choose to love our world while one just chooses to hate. K Enga (27.mai.2017) [174.106] Note: really needs fixing but that will happen some other day. |
Driverless, the cab meanders... inspired by Stephen T Johnson The cab meanders through old haunts, revisiting red bricks covered by asphalt, the yellow ones now strewn with ivy. These old elms were young when the cab was young, when Checkers were the kings of taxis, for princes and princesses craving comfort, who sank ample butts into new cushions. Who rides there now if not their ghosts. The cab meanders from midnight till two. It has nothing better to do, and without a driver, goes where it wills, picking up passengers... whenever it chooses to. K Enga (30.may.2017) [174.113] Written at MPL, found in Redbook, p.35 |