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Printed from https://web1.writing.com/main/books/item_id/982524-Laura-del-Campo/day/8-14-2025
Rated: 13+ · Book · Personal · #982524

Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation.

*Smile*          *Laugh*          *Yawn*

L'aura del campo


'é a lua, é a lua, na quintana dos mortos'
♣ Federico García Lorca ♣


Higgins Street Bridge, April 25th  2009, Missoula, Montana


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 L*Flower2*V*Flower2* COMMENTS!

On a practical note, in answer to your questions:

Gifts from NOVAcatmando Author Icon kiyasama alfred booth, wanbli ska Author Icon ransomme Iowegian Skye Author Icon

Merit Badge in Reviewing
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For your support and suggestions on my haiku "Lone Poinsettia" which took second place in the contest and will be published.  Thanks for helping make it a winning poem! Merit Badge in Nano Winner
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CONGRATULATIONS on your achievement! *^*Bigsmile*^* Merit Badge in Reviewing
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For help finding a title for my first chapbook.  We're not there yet, but your ideas are always interesting.
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Thanks for being my friend.

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For brightening my day with your delightful offerings ~ Thank you so much! *^*Heart*^*


IN MEMORIUM

VerySara Author Icon

passed away November 12, 2005

Please visit her port to read her poems and her writings.
More suggested links:

Dogwood in bloom
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 Kåre *Leaf5* Enga
~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go.
~ Elizabeth Bishop,
The Fish
August 14, 2025 at 8:02pm
August 14, 2025 at 8:02pm
#1095307
La Música

Drums cross the wooden floors,
pine groaning to pounding feet,
the rhythm of clogs, the shuffle of sandals.
The espresso machine provides harmony
for the unburdened whine soaring
from customers ordering —
a brioche, a fluted canelé, a latté
skinny with oat milk and a dash of vanilla.
Hold the tears, hold the drama!

I wear a yellow shirt with a faded ink stain,
the curse of writers not too proud
to wear second hand clothes
or write down emotions overheard
between words unspoken.

Unbroken, invisible, I grip my cup of daily drip
as if it contains some sanity,
as words squiggle across a blank page,
now relieved to be of some use
more than a blotter for stains.

This useless day gleams,
not too hot, not too chill, odd for August,
as the sun peaks through clouds
to gild the drought-yellowed leaves
that catch a breeze, like Lazarus,
hoping to survive autumn
to green again come next spring.

Melodic thoughts bring peace; but,
give way to annoying traffic,
to feet pounding the pavement;
La Música now a cacophony,
dying when a motorcycle screeches its descant,
shattering the moment.

© Kåre Enga (4.agosto.2025)

31 lines

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Printed from https://web1.writing.com/main/books/item_id/982524-Laura-del-Campo/day/8-14-2025