Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation. |
| I dream Montana Clouds glower at mountain ridges; stop, then lift their veils of rain and pass. Pine welcomes mist while blades of grass green yet through all this I somehow know: I'm dreaming Montana. Open meadows, thunder of hooves, howls from the bowels of canyons, woods. Not gone, but fading as moon-filled nights fade at dawn-light where the buzz of a billion deeds not done, still wait. Why drown this dream with human plight? In my bed I close my eyes. Unseen, I dream Montana. © Kåre Enga 31.agosto.2014 Oh, if I were Russell (the famous westerner) today... 78,505 |