L'aura del Campo

Ramblings

1.

If you could be here I'd make the stars come out at noon, guided by the light of your face. No need for the sun to show the way. Grey skies numb this day. A breeze tries to clear the cobwebs. Discontent overrules it all. No word from them... no word from you. No one dispels this weight of silence. The city bustles about oblivious, un-caring. It doesn't know you, doesn't know how much I miss you.

[blithered in my note book, 28.julio.2016, PZ]

2.

O Ancient Face lit by the Southern Sky! Your halo rides high on her clouds. Your visage as stony as this beach. These waves the children of your tides that grind each rock into course black sand.

Across this vacuous weep between us, a journey of ebb and neep, the knead of this night conceals stars that whisper to our emptiness. Fill us, Harsh Mistress! At this hour of our daily death before we sleep.

© Kåre Enga

[22.julio.2016 Montezuma]