Vanessa writes that her poem, Amnesia was written while she stared out from her study-room window, focused on school and the trappings of societal life: ‘I felt thankful for the decision I made to move up to a small town in Mt. Hood, where I could still communicate through technology, besides the part time job I also keep. I found it necessary for me to live close to the natural world. It is where I have been able to replenish what was once a worn out soul, a kind of rejuvenation that only the wild can provide.’
When I remember that I need
fresh air to breathe—
not the stale, recycled city-
miasma that seeps even now
into the suburbs but my
mountain, pine-brushed air,
atop layers of ripe plums that still
cling to their trees—I peer across
the sunlit grass and let my eyes
embrace its wooded horizon.
I take in the bird that flies
over this vision, the handful
of chimneys signaling
their smokestacks from one acre
to another, the mist that rolls
down the surrounding hillsides,
casted by a snow that beds
the clouds. Then along the rows
of steel-ropes that border the old
road, my mind travels back to where
I am bound to forget again.
Vanessa Watters enjoys her small town life on Mt. Hood. She tends bar at one of the local establishments and plans to teach ESL online and at community colleges until she can find a position full time.