Friday Poetry ~ Portland

 

 

I was going through some old poetry this past week…letting my fingers wander through the pages as my mind swirled and wandered through the memories. So many life moments captured in these lettered words, on white paper now faded and tinged with yellow…their energy lifting off the page in a cloud of nostalgia. I breathed it in, and let my thoughts flow and wrap around me as I succumbed, and stepped out of time for a moment, and whirled and dipped and floated on those delicious memories. One stood out in its clarity, and so I share the poem here today. I remember exactly where I was sitting when I wrote this…at a bay window in my little apartment in an old Victorian house. My very first place on my own, having moved by myself to this city that had called me to its heart. It will always be my home, for it is where I found myself, for the first time. A dear city, I will return to. Someday. Enjoy! Blessings!

PO 2

Portland, Oregon

Oh, I so love the dusk in wintertime
As darkness slowly spills over the city
Lofty clouds hang heavy with rain
Over the lush full trees
As birds chatter one last time from their branches
Lights appear, shimmering in the sleek damp air
And disappear again
As they roll across Broadway Bridge in the distance
And a quiet hush sits about the air, as if
The city is holding its breath
In anticipation of the coming night

I sit suspended in those last moments of dusk
Suspended as if hanging on a thread of time
Captured in the spell of a winters eve
In Portland, the city of my heart

~ MarDrag ~

PO 1PO 3

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10 comments on “Friday Poetry ~ Portland

    • Yes, I know you do! πŸ™‚ I confess I shed a tear or two when I read it, haven’t seen it for a long time. But, it was exquisite pain, as the memories of past and future are lovely. To home I shall come. Peace to you in your home!

  1. what a lovely reverie MD, i always enjoy when you rummage in the attic and find your poetry. i have fond memories of my one trip to Portland a few years ago, i took a 2 week course and built a bicycle from scratch. the city was small town like and i felt very comfortable there, more at home than i feel here in Chicago. have a wonderful and hopefully sun filled weekend!

    • “rummage in the attic and find your poetry”…I love that phrase, for that is what I do, you got it! Portland is that kind of city that touches everyone. Nice to hear your story. And wishing you a lovely weekend too Good Warrior!

  2. Wonderful Poetry Dear Mar.. itsn’t it great to come across an old poem we have written.. Like you we often remember where it was written and what inspired us to write it.. I hope some day you get to revisit your lovely Portland..
    You created a visual image of yourself sat there as you looked out upon the scene.. Many thanks for sharing your gift.. Love Sue xox

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