To the city we left behind

This is another poem that was written based on random title ideas in my idea journal – much like my previous post. When I looked through my journal and saw “To the city we left behind”, I immediately thought of Portland, Oregon. Claire and I lived in Portland a few years back, and I still have regrets about that move. So, I thought I would write an homage to my time there. We had a nice walking trail near our apartment that almost felt like the middle of the wilderness, so many creatures and rain-soaked plants. That was the best part about Portland. Nature was everywhere, and it was always so green no matter the season. I do miss that place. This one’s for you, Portland. I hope you enjoy my poem!

To the city we left behind

Where spotted owl
swooped down,
by the off-shoot brook
Silent, wings-stretched tense,
somber killer


Where a small cross bridge,
worn-smooth driftwood,
is theatre and stage:
thicket-sparrow,
silted-bed and polished opal
Watched leopard frogs,
hind legs taut
but still, a dawdled mind
commanded by twig’s snappish counsel
And the water strider
with each movement mindful
of an arm’s rippled spread


There’s a city in the forest
painted five shades of green,
damp-darkened brown


Where drizzled rain dew sways
free-willed in dogged lawless motion,
condensed yet never fogging
Half-misted northwestern spring
beaded on bearded moss
and the Big Leaf


To the city we left behind,
where water orbs, lit-torched in sun
and fleeting patches: in rainbows, in shadow
and glass

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