Knowing it lies beyond

Knowing it lies beyond

Jeannie stomps in khaki camouflage,
proud and tall in her combat boots.
Her anger spits at the end of a knife
when eyes squint blinded, blurred by night
or spirits.

Through tears she rages, always aware it's
somewhere beyond her grasp.

And she loves her mother's conversion van,
the bottle that's passed from friend to friend,
her dog, Natasha, white and tan,
the sacred feathers: eagle and hawk, her
motorbike.

For there is something therein she seeks,
yet knows that it lies beyond.

And the full moon wanes as the new moon dawns
when the U.P. diesel runs through town,
and the whistle sounds for all to clear.
Perhaps, as Jeannie bends over the tracks,
she does not hear ...

And her life's expended in one last gasp,
in reach of something beyond.

© Kåre Enga

catalogue number: [163.286]

In memory of Jeannie Marie New Moon (1953-2006)