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 |   Enga mellom fjella: where from across the meadow, poems sing from mountains and molehills. |
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Enga mellom Fjella  Sentinel Marked as if you own me I bow before the Bitterroots and just like you my rocky soil, my withered grass lays prey to the empty sky. © Kåre Enga 2007 "Sentinel"   Reader's Choice of Poems: "'heart's home'" "Glice" "Tales told over scones and hot tea" "Boise City" "Wheat penny" Reader's Choice of blog entries from my old blog "L'aura del Campo" :"Death of Jeannie New Moon" "Doing and don'ting. A scene in 2nd person." "When is it proper to tell someone you love them?" "Tupac and more poetry" "James Doohan, Scotty. Ombra mai fu. Eutin Guitar Orchestra" FACES     PLACES            Kåre  Enga~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go. ~ Elizabeth Bishop The Fish |
| Dial-an-age "You dialed wrong." Mikhail was upset. Once wrinkled he now had a zit about to burst and a voice that kept breaking between bird-chirp and timpani. He was distraught. Robin looked the same as ever. 22 and va-va-voom. He looked down where something ought to be rising. No va no voom. Robin just laughed. "You should get ready. Off to school now." Mikhail remembered his father's voice. Robin was... Nah. His father had died a couple years before Robin was born. That possibility ... made him shudder. "You're not my daddy." "Oh, but I want to be. As soon as you grow up, that is." Mikhail felt his eyes water as Robin put his arms around him. "It's okay Micky. I can wait. Or you could just redial and try again." Robin's warmth made something stir. There was hope.
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