L'aura del Campo

Remembering the gardener

Busco las memorias que perdí.



Remembering the gardener

I was the one who brought you together,
helped you cross boundaries you were reluctant to cross.
I was there tending my garden when you struggled
and when you first bloomed.
You were my patience with every plant bought,
with every seed planted,
I watered each, every one, and although some never sprouted,
I remember you all.
I was the gardener of daffodills, violets and rose.
Now autumn has passed and winter winds chill
and I'm gone from your lives.
Do you remember me still?

© Kåre Enga 2001-03-27 [168.9]



Hmmm... I used to garden. Solía ser jardinero. Pues... life took me elsewhere. I think about my friends and the things we used to do. Parties, picnics, sitting around a table playing cards. Meetings, work ... I don't do those things anymore. And no one calls or even sends me a note. It depresses me when the sun doesn't shine. But then it does ...and I look forward to new friends and adventures.



An odd assortment! I do read Spanish every day. And I find myself thiniking in it as well. This bodes good for my return to Costa Rica and Pérez Zeledón. Also getting through dear Emily's opus.

A few rays of 42º at the vesper hour.

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