Enga mellom fjella: where from across the meadow, poems sing from mountains and molehills. |
Bowels of C'tara On Pergna you were a woman fullbreasted, fun, infertile. On Lacamma a young man strong and willing cut off before your seed was planted. On Aet I waited and waited until your hermaphroditic form decided what was your heart's desire; but, by then I was too old and shriveled. In the bowels of C'tara you were neither and yet we managed to commune somehow. Five-thousand offspring later you sowed them gently among the stars. They thought of you as God and Mother and that hellish place your womb. Oh, Zmitri, they still visit you. From the corners of the universe they place stone offerings on your tomb. © 2009 Kåre Enga [165.410] 2009-01-16 A "Zmitri" poem, like many of my others. Needed to write another after reading a few offerings of Hawksley Burns for Isadora. BLAH BLAH BLAH: Caught more photos of hoarfrost. The frozen fog has given way to sunshine, so I mustn't linger at the computer. Took pictures of the restroom at Bernice's. Maybe pictures and poems of the restrooms of Missoula? Something special and local: like the tea "Evening in Missoula" only "Thronerooms of Missoula? A "Montana" interest book of course. Montana: 23º at 15:00 10,805 |