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harlon rivers Oct 2017
The blustery east wind
gathers the fragrant  
Warm Springs
high desert
mountain sage,
cascading
downhill
through
Dry Creek pass
surging downward
from above
the Hood River valley,
with breath of sky's bouquet
of billowing
aromatic avalanche,
gushing
of heaven's zephyr

The poignant
sudden starkness
of fiery autumn leaves
letting go
whirling ― falling
helter skelter,
pushed urgently
flying westbound,
beckoned franticly
by
distant whispered
ocean bellows
blowin' in the winds
    of change ―

Adrift across
Parkdale
mountain meadows,
Coyote  bent,
paw trodden
ripe sweet grasses,
pungent  with
waft of mountain sage
and fermenting apples fallen ―
the waxing silence
of the marvelous moon
echoes  just beyond
the Lost Lake of the Woods,
its golden orange crescent
dances on clear lake ripples,
high perched
sky reflection lapping
the moon kissed shoreline

 ― alone ―  

The Sliver of the Moon,
skinny lithe
unripened youth
arching
as unsated
       summer love  ―  
sage memories
waxing and waning,
whiffs of honeyed Jasmine
writhing witherings,
coalescent

    time drifts onward ―   

unstoppable changes
never turning around
looking back
to see
their fading reflection
    recurring ―

  

august rivers 2017

note to self:
September 15, 16 east wind
Breathing Waft of lingering Mountain Sage
another Autumn soon comes

... and I'm getting older too
When our senses are heightened, do you ever think about the journey of the stimulus(?)!  like the path of scent or even smoke...or a distant sound.
How far is the distant horizon you see...even how far away can we be touched (?)! in its many realms...

Just stuff in drafts...
all these are real places
on the long road home

All habitat at Mt. Hood's fingertip reach
in Oregon, North America
Home of the devastating Eagle Creek wild fire of 2017
In the treasured western scenic Columbia River gorge

Waft of Mountain Sage
Written by:  h.a. rivers
Nessie Dec 2010
Its pretty early

or maybe its just a cloudy day

the light from the big bay windows

is bright and soft and sad in its purity

my heeled black boots click on the standard multi-grained colored tile

I see you in the distance in a familiar hallway

In the mandatory uniform

hands balled up in tan pants, a book bag slung over one shoulder

I stand on the opposite end looking somewhat normal

a gray and black abstract top that screams art teacher/librarian

dark purple lipstick, blue jeans, and a intricate up-do

I believe I am particularly self-conscious about this

but your smiling at me like I'm beautiful anyways

the clicking of the heels get quicker as I magnetize towards you

I fit into you like a puzzle piece

body to body, heart to heart

your arms are wrapped knowingly across my lower back

my arms are clutching your neck holding on for dear life or something else that means so much more

You still smell the same

Your breath is soft against my ear right above the sliver hoop

When we try to remove ourselves from the sticky membranes of the closeness

my nose trails across your cheek

your chin

I want that kiss I will never again receive

I look up and you're wearing that smirk

that rare smirk, that heart shattering smirk, my smirk

This. This embrace echoes things of the past

of chance, and love, and lust, and confusion, frustration, failure, and forgiveness

even though we wear that polite"we're just friends" expression on our faces.

This memory, I can place in the past , present, or future

But sometimes. Sometimes it happens differently

Sometimes I am comfy in an old slipknot shirt outside your house in the pouring rain

Sometimes we are at Parkdale directly after I've crashed and burned, trying to smile bravely like it doesn't hurt

Sometimes I am lost and broken amid the cherry blossoms sighing for you

Sometimes its on Halloween before I take my four month leave

But alot of times

more often than most

its in the way you look at me and say

How are you?

and I know you truly mean it

That's when I realize i don't need to say a word..You know

I loved you

I lost you

And vivid memory maybe the only thing I gain from this

in its embracive care

and that's okay with me

finally.
----> this poem  was orginally called embracive care, because at the time I didnt know it was going to be his last poem. yay for closure <3

— The End —