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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/item_id/1317094-Enga-mellom-fjella/day/9-21-2021
Rated: 13+ · Book · Biographical · #1317094
Enga mellom fjella: where from across the meadow, poems sing from mountains and molehills.

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

Late autumn

Reader's Choice of Poems:

"Sentinel
"Where grows the compost heap
"Waterlily
"I, Katrina
"Starbeams on Tulsa


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.
"Even in chaos ... More hockey poems.
"Footprints in the snow, in memory of Nyia Page
"James Doohan, Scotty. Ombra mai fu. Eutin Guitar Orchestra

FACES




PLACES





Yellow cheer from sarah




 Kåre *Delight* Enga

~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go.
~ Elizabeth Bishop
The Fish
September 21, 2021 at 2:55pm
September 21, 2021 at 2:55pm
#1017824
I love this room. I live here in an oak drawer stuffed with papers. So cozy with candles casting a rosy glow on my mistress as she sits there each morning on the edge of her high back chair. Their fragrance lingers in the air.

But today my mistress slumps, wrapped in her nightgown of gauze, her copper hair hanging, barely awake.

She isn't prepared for the telegram.

One never is.

She gazes at a stack of letters tied with a blue ribbon, the pink petals painted on panels not muttering a word.

I... I am summoned and gently lifted from my refuge.

No tick-tock of a clock notes the passing seconds as she stares at the void, eyes vacant beyond tears.

Her warm hand cradles me as the candle weeps. We who bear witness say nothing. What can we say to our somber young mistress. There's no consolation to overcome heart-rendering words once they're read and digested.

See me there, now gripped by her hand, wondering whether I'll be called upon to end her despair. I recoil at the thought.

         one shot fired
         which way it's aimed
         we don't know


© Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga, P.O. 22, [178.232.gz]

Invalid Photo #1062218
'Telegram' by Louise Max-Ehrler (1894)

~190 words


© Copyright 2024 Kåre Enga in Montana (UN: enga at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Kåre Enga in Montana has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/item_id/1317094-Enga-mellom-fjella/day/9-21-2021