So many opportunities for mud
can be found in these hills,
and petals falling from the roses
are like instant drops of summer.
Kids are causing a riot in their need
for self-expression, coffeehouse romances,
eternal bike lanes. Somewhere downtown
is a dingy garage where the cement
still smells like the rubber of 1990's
almost-championship season.
There are a lot of bridges here,
a lot of ways across the mind.
Come on, says the sun, sparking
madness, I'll race you to the other side.
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I love how proud Portlanders are of the rain :) Liked this one a lot, Sharon. Thanks for posting!
This makes me feel the way I feel standing in the rain, the smells, all of it. That is a very cool thing, Sharon Hurlbut.
Thanks Marcelle and Sheldon!
Mud, petal drops, bridges crossing the mind...
Love it!
"ways across the mind" - very nice.
Excellent descriptions and such accuracy. I don't think I'm proud of the rain, but I don't complain anymore.
One of my favorite writes about one of my favorite cities -- how can I go wrong? ". . . a lot of ways across the mind." Wonderful thought.
Love the last four lines especially.
I once hitch-hiked from New York to see Portland in the rain.