♦ Poetic Sketches M to R ♦

Odor of violets

[13+] For my grandmother Bertha, who I never met.

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Odor of violets

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I look into my grandmother's gaze.
The breeze ripples; it disappears; I wait.
I inspect the blackness of it,
the depth,
the calm,
and then she reappears again.

Her presence like pressed violets,
or an accordian's squeeze of note,
gasping, folded onto itself.
Her past
present,
touching the mirror of my face.


Kåre Enga

catalogue number: [162.507]
4 november 2005