I posted a new poem at
annasadhorse tonight, Epitaph. This makes 27 to date that I've posted there. As with the others, this one is not new, just new to the site. I wrote it 25 years ago. I've never submitted it anywhere but I read it on the radio and at poetry readings. I was living in
Ashland, Oregon at the time, a
theater town and good place for poets. It's where I founded SkyRiver Press, but that's another story and it's late.
4 comments:
My mother took us to Ashland a couple times in the early 70s. I have always wanted to go back. It was not an option while passing by on the way to visit in-laws in Washington, but now, or soon, many such things will be options.
A high school friend has performed there many times, and just about everywhere else too, and is quite the successful stage actor.
I am often too lazy for poems. But Epitaph was accessible to me. Behind what I used to see of life and of death, my new road stretches on. I too am done with dying. My post about one aspect of the road tells only a fraction of it. Another is told by a chance meeting the other day with my manager of several year ago. "Don," he said, "you seem so much happier!"
Ashland was just the right place for me at the time as I was going through some profound life changes. The Rogue Valley was considered a sacred healing place by the native peoples in the area. Even when warring amongst themselves all around the valley, they would still send their sick and insane to the valley to heal in peace. Or so goes the legend.
I liked that.
Roy, :)
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