My early sea town home came
With strides of colossal change floating between
The marrow of my bones; gnawing inside.

Chance always showed me where to go
Landing near deep, blue-green waves
That washed the soft slumber from my eyes.

Perlious seas to cover the silence of a murmurous beauty
Pouring into the Colombia Gorge that flows a horizen-line
Against the rim of peaceful strangeness in the city.

Darkening dusk hovered in the wide quietness
Of Forest Park with lanterns lit along the west coast
while I counted the spaces of plum-colored stars.

There I went running on the hills through the virescent woods
Of tall evergreen trees dripping wanton rain into the hollows of a wet earth.
Dressed in ghost-white like a wayward drifter.

Night, emitted a warmth of drunken red wine
With tireless voices laugh shaken to beats of ethereal music.
Departure struck me with sudden change to a new home.

Ripped away and fixed in the belief of happenstance.
Always to remember the feeling of being young
On this cold night in Oregon.