The more I go, the harder it becomes to return. To anywhere. There is no one at the ocean this morning. I walked by the campsites and smelled eggs and pancakes. And there were sweet Oregon cherries and watermelon. I wonder if I can go back—what purpose there would be in it—or in any other thing?
Peter Sears was appointed to a two-year term as Oregon State Poet Laureate in April 2014. Sears is the author of the poetry collections Tour (Breitenbush Books, 1987); The Brink (Gibbs Smith, 2000), winner of the Peregrine Smith Poetry Competition; Green Diver (WordTech Communications, 2009); and Small Talk: New and Selected Poems, forthcoming from Lynx House Press later this year. He lives in Corvallis.
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Siwashing It Out Once in Suislaw Forest I slept under rhododendron All night blossoms fell Shivering on a sheet of cardboard Feet stuck in my pack Hands deep in my pockets Barely able to sleep. I remembered when we were in school Sleeping together in a big warm bed We were the