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 |
In my galaxy To exist in my galaxy, faint stardust coalescing into ice and fire, the stuff we're made of --backbone, bloodstone-- be my friend and let my embers stoke your laughter, becoming a beacon of hope at night. If I could keep your joy in a bottle, I'd still let you go. For me, to exist in my galaxy I need to know— that you're free, Zmitri, and somewhere out there. © Kåre Enga (19.juin.2017) [174.149zm] /30:19.2/ |
Graduation lottery: Mortar boards learn to fly before landing on a job © Kåre Enga (19.juin.2017) [174.148] /30:19.1/ |