Across the Four Corners
by Andrew Wright
Portland, OR
Climbing the mighty ruins of the Peter Iredale.
Sitting with friends on the slopes of bramble-crowned dunes,
Looking out at huge waves striking rocks far below.
Picking blackberries to put in wire-handled coffee cans.
Fishing, never catching a thing, in the Umpqua
River while cousins skip rocks to scare them over to the bate.
Swimming, always freezing, in lakes and rivers and ocean.
Clutching a cold .22, shivering in the dawn light, waiting
For sage rats to emerge from their holes in the alfalfa fields.
Standing atop high-desert hills, nothing of man for miles.
Watching brilliant green pass by on the rainy drive
From PDX to home for two weeks respite from Iraq.
Trekking to friends’ houses across Portland’s frozen tundra.
