Poetry

 I'm in Oregon Still

So you left us out west

to seek fortune back east.

How's the pace of the city,

all the excitement and stress?

You may not find time to answer

but I found time to write.

        I'm in Oregon still.

Can you sense fragrant firs

when we talk on the phone?

Can you hear the hush

when I send a text?

Can you feel the forests

when I post recent pics?

        I'm in Oregon still.

You uber your city

as I hike the Cascades.

While your hardsole shoes

pound cement sidewalks,

sands of the beach

treat my bare feet.

        I'm in Oregon still.

You figit in a long line

for a crowded cafe seat.

I eat among flowers

on a hillside meadow.

You squeeze into congested clubs,

but I dance outside on the grass.

        I'm in Oregon still.

I won't live in your city,

it's not a good fit for me.

You may not crave the space,

that I would die without.

If you get too close to the edge,

come home again for sanity.

        I'll be in Oregon still.