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A Little Trouble Letting Go

Early my eyes to a day just fawning where the tide has encroached high and the fogs hang low.

Where the cries of gulls intrude upon the gentle bellow of the sea and a suggestion of salt last on my tongue.

---- a swollen sadness is here as well ---

I am numb in thought to what has been lost.  Now that spring has come, do the tender sprouts of my conscience show?

---I feel a bit empty ----

Attempting to gather myself, I scouted the shorelines once pathed in perfect spring.  Foolishly I looked to see if they were still there, foolishly.

---Am I tormenting myself?

Her words were well liter formidable opponent to any resistance I may have had; I had none.

She blew into me like a summer breeze, like she was summer tea, sweet and effortless.  She left even easier.

---lies burn seconds into the truth.

Her heart was as big as a castle and twice as empty.  I misjudged her luxuries, thinking they would be enough to sustain happiness.

---Deceived by false-hearted seduction.

I tried to grip tightly to one end of the wind a slender proposition at best.

Survival did not depend on my desires but I wanted it to.

----Time to close eyes and let go---

                                Tristan, Summer 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
shivers
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…