Enga mellom fjella: where from across the meadow, poems sing from mountains and molehills. |
Fear of the flight We wait in shadows unwilling to move. We curse the cold dark, refuse the warm light. We perish in caves wrapped tight with our fears. We birth into flight, then burst out in tears to unblinking stars to uncaring moons. We roam in shadows, ghost dust on our tombs. © 2009 Kåre Enga [165.437] 2009-02-09 The first lines were in response to a blog entry by Karen and it flowed from there. Blah blah blah: Went nowhere ... except to the Senior Center for a coffee, doughnut and sudoku. The election of officers is today. I will avoid it. Too much drama and I wouldn't be surprised if the police are called to break up fights (like last year). If the folks who want it to be a private club win, I will just refuse to go. I spent way too much time yesterday sitting in front of the computer sorting out music of Joan Manuel Serrat at YouTube to make an appendix here so I don't have to search all over. I listened to his music when I lived in Costa Rica ... centuries ago. BLOGVILLE The 'view counter' for blogs was broken most of yesterday, just in case someone was wondering why they "weren't being read". You were! The 'clicker' just wasn't adding it all up. I sent a query to Support after being stuck on 5 views all day. After a week of averaging over 40 I knew something wasn't right. It was corrected immediately by the SM. I am working on a forum highlighting poetry blogs. We ploggers live in a small cul-de-sac on the wrong side of Montmartre ... I swear. So, I thought of opening up our own little cafe. Others are welcome to come in for an espresso: "Plogville, plogs and ploggers" Montana: 23º at 10:00 11,778 |