L'aura del Campo

Canvas of a May day.

Canvas of a May day

Inner shaking
struts like robins stalking
worms. I'm wary
and thoughts turn to odors
of green crushed yew
... and you ...
nowhere to be found.
Here where lawns
defend themselves with chiggers
my tired eyelids flutter
and vermilion beads
across a khaki background,
canvas of an inner eye
I can't deny.

© Kåre Enga [164.95] 07-05-27

This was written from images I gleaned last week and rewove. Being aware is a good cure to writer's block. Even shopping lists and the most mundane task of the day is useful for a creative writer. Did you do laundry today? Cook breakfast? Hug your kid? Rush to mail a letter in the rain? Smile at a stranger? Each of these tasks are worth observing with new eyes, thinking about with new metaphors (my fingers feel like bacon slabs, my eyes like soft boiled eggs). There are stories to be written and poetry singing in the vibration of the clothes line. And forget the drama of Aphrodite and the Greek gods, of vampires and love lost ... there is always the neighbor who came to the door this morning in his wife's pink bunny slippers ... there is always something to write about!

IMAGES:

Green cathedrals; scent of yucca; poison ivy; heavy odor of honeysuckle; moon in the SW sky; spirea; clematis and rose; daylily and rose; rose; the scent of linden.

MORNING THOUGHTS:

Money will not solve my problems. Given money, I'd have to cope with change. I am used to surviving; I'd have to get used to living and I'd have to adjust to too many choices instead of too few. One change at a time might be good. I could even afford sushi! Yep. Start with unagi (eel).

I used to work in the poorest neighborhoods in an inner city. I lived in the inner city, too. I drove my Miata top down and left it parked top down on streets that suburbanites were afraid to drive down in their s.u.v.s. People knew who I was, knew I wasn't there to make life difficult for them, and over a period of years there were only a couple bad incidences. My co-workers never understood that for me their homogenized suburbs were more frightening than the diversity of the city where I too could fit in.

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