Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation. |
L'aura del campo 'é a lua, é a lua, na quintana dos mortos' ♣ Federico García Lorca ♣ L'aura del campo. A breeze in the meadow. So it began the last day of Spring, 2005; on the 16th day of the month of Light of the year 162. This is a supplement to my daily journal written to a friend, my muse; notes I do not share. Here I will share what the breeze has whispered to me. PLEASE LEAVE COMMENTS! I LV COMMENTS! On a practical note, in answer to your questions: IN MEMORIUM VerySara passed away November 12, 2005 Please visit her port to read her poems and her writings. More suggested links: These pictures rotate. Kåre Enga ~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go. ~ Elizabeth Bishop, The Fish |
Adagio in Armargh to the sound of glass breaking Mary Elizabeth sags — slowly — like a Brahm's adagio, tranquil but boring; yet, tinkles like church bells when struck. She's had ten too many children and wants to punch through the glass ceiling — before she's too worn out. She's Thirty-six. A dash of hemlock? A cup of arsenic? As the owner of her future, she'll rise to the top — and give her offspring what their father could not. Kåre Enga [180.35] (18.mai.2023) Note: line 4 is an intentional double entendre |