Doug Stone is a fourth generation Oregonian and lives with his wife amid hop yards and vineyards near the Willamette River in Benton County, Oregon. In past lives he has worked on a county road crew, been a case worker, and a public policy analyst. He has written two poetry collections: The Season of Distress and Clarity, and The Moon’s Soul Shimmering on the Water.
Letter from Oregon
When I first arrived I was told I would feel a sadness
in the rain-soaked winter light as if something was lost
and might never be found again. Then I learned to listen
to the rain and walk without the burden of my shadow.
Here the rain tells the truth about everything it touches,
the hard city truth of glistening concrete, glass and steel,
the soft, lush truth of those things green and living,
the quiet truth of a landscape, always under low
slung clouds, flourishing in the song of winter rain.
On those rare days when the winter sun ignites the sky,
it tries to tell me the weight of my shadow is a gift
but I no longer trust the promise of bright, cold light.
Rain will be gray. That is the nature of rain. But it will never
be indifferent and will never lie. That too, is the nature of rain.