the hush of the portland airport
jeans and plaid and backpacks and beards
lumbering along the wacky teal carpet
i sigh and exhale-- the relief of familiarity
sherbet fog hovering over the morning landscape
white shimmery mount hood peeking out of the ground
year round velvety green grass
that smell of moist winter air- not too hot, not too cool
plodding through the wet grass
squishing in the mud
running through fernhill
walking to our grocery store
bailey leading the way
piles of organic produce
neighbors eating quietly
i forget sometimes how nice it is here.
after nine days on an island out east
so glad to be home.
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