L'aura del Campo

There comes a softening... (O1, O2, O3, O4)

There comes a softening...

...to the rod
when father raises welts
then weeps
remembering
his own unhealed wounds.

© Kåre Enga [171.O1]

There comes a softening...

...to hard floors
when blue mats cover concrete
a resting place for the dead,
walls remaining hard
to separate
the barely living.

© Kåre Enga [171.O2]

There comes a softening...

...to screeching strings.
when mellow cello
begs viola
to join and sing
those alto notes
while testy violins
keep silent
and bass bows soft,
plucks pianissimo
a deep throat vibrating
as cello rises
then recedes
in a bow
to the patient violins.

© Kåre Enga [171.O3]

There comes a softening...

...to camel's back
when thirst has hollowed hump
or when a single straw
has broken it
as once treasured burdens spill
like scattered grains of sand.

© Kåre Enga [171.O4]

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