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The Morning After

Eyes out my back window
     Lost in thought
     Ankle fog
     Low rumbling tide
     Shifting sand
Precarious anchored sea grass.

Winds whistle on salted weather
     Vacant deck
      Adirondack chairs
      Grey scabbed
      Two empty glasses
      Prone wine bottle
Grape stained pool from drips.

Busy myself with the start of the day
      Grinding beans
      Pressed coffee
      Aroma filled air
      Startling noise
      Ahah coffee for two perhaps.

Holding my breath before turning around
      Mussed hair
      Sleepy cuteness
      My old tee shirt
      Eyes downcast
      Coffee good mornings
What did we do smiles exchanged.

Out the window from my breakfast bar
     Two stools
      Side by side
      Eyes on the ocean
      Cupped coffee mugs
      Maple bacon
      English muffins
      Marionberry jam
Comfortable smiles... Everything is right.

                     ---Tristan, Spring 2019


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Introducing a New Writer -- Tristan

Tristan is the pen name of a young writer from the Oregon Coast.  A fisherman and a poet, he writes from the perspective of a new deeply involved wordsmith, in expressing himself through the written word, and enriching his soul.  He wants to share his journey with you, and to share his creativity and his words with you.

In Tristan's life, there have been crises, struggles, and challenges.  His courage and his character to deal with life's obstacles is reflected in his writing.

"I want my work to flow like a wild river, carving its own path.  The river is sometimes inhibited by dams that suspend the natural flow of something. I want people to feel something, feel uncomfortable, feel sad, hurt, broken, happy, but just feel."

Tristan's poems have been published in "The Echo" newsletter and Honoring Our Rivers (2018), an anthology of writing by inmates of the Eastern Oregon Correctional Institution, in Pendleton, Oregon.

The Raven and the Sailor

The cottonwood and the hemlock trees
mingle in the lower pastures
Standing high by riverside
eyeing the flood of love's disasters.

To where I follow a raven's fate
who scouts in pallid skies
for mate designed for only he
if knowest tears he'd cry.

Toward western skies in askance flies
the raven with dirge on his heart
His sorry I borrow like it's
my tomorrow
A burden of grief in cart.

The river a path that has
come to a crash
with vastness so large evokes
With nothing to follow his
heart has been swallowed
How will he spot a lost
love's quivers?

When darkness falls his longing
still calls and body implores him rest
But sleep won't come
Until he's undone
Bound to an eternal quest.

Just before the dawn awakes
I set for bountied seas
The raven perched upon the stern
of my ocean faring steed.

Beyond the port between the jetties
across the bar we flee
New mates akin by broken hearts
He with I and I with he.

Briskly arriving a smile on the day
pouncing to…