Valley Blues

Oh home -

How I miss you today

Enjoy this article X poetry piece about a time previously lived in a mountain town exploring the Islands of B.C. and its cattle ranges.

The place called home is a desert amidst the valley near the mountains aflame, with coastal lines a few highway hours away.

A few years prior, it would have been a flood-barren prairie western town known for vicious crime, vastly similar to Batman’s Gotham City - without the justice or storyline. Amusing how it takes only 12 short months for a life to completely transform.

Seeds of longing mixed with regret into a concoction of misfortune plagues evening thoughts. Sleep fades and memories overtake floodways.

Was it meant to be - this unique timing. Or was it cut short instead due to fear and anxious longing for connection back home again.

These thoughts remain when sleep stays in-accomplished.

From hiking and exploring to evening wandering for bar hopping, a desire to return and experience all unfortunately vague things such as bookclubs and volunteering instills these veins.

Although recognition and praise for accomplishments at work is gained, as well as satisfying personal goals of socialization and networking in-person made, it was simply unfulfilling to put it bashfully.

A shot at making unique difference struck me as novelty with colleagues motivating us endlessly. Being an intellectual person and curious by nature, it makes me wonder whether the move back to North was worthy after all. The major events were accomplished quickly, though critical life skills were gained - some of which I may have been forced in acknowledgement if I stuck around in the mountain range longer than expected.

Laying with my sack in the grass while staring at the stars naked above me blanketed in moonlight glow, a tent near the peak for laying will be a memory near and dear. A tang of regret for indulging in photographs and texting more than capturing the ever too short memories though stings as I recapture everything.

I see why the above envy us eternal beings - each moment could be our last, or at least a flailing memory of recalling due to distraction or paranoia in the midst of doughy thinking.

I thought the chance to get back would be an opportunity provided immediately. Instead, I patiently wait feeling agony surrounding.

Excitement pans the structure as I plan the escape once and for good back home to the valley again

Trauma is the first word

that appears on sacred lips

when memories of a time so lost

are recalled again -

the beauty and grace

of holding an embrace

in a novel place full of lively bliss

♾

Only endless opportunities forego

when the sun shines low

overwhelming our systems

all spurred up for once in a gust

before leaves drowning our sorrows

too full a cup when our rakes mistake play

for begging when we simply desired times

at musty river banks enclosed in valleys again

♾

Money flees as we save away sanity only barely

and slim credit card cheques

paid endlessly, slightly scratching dents

feeding algae matter being the payment scheme

to keep the wealthy in costally free

where the clouds hang lower

which brights sweet teeth mellowing

for stars mightily in flight

where possibilities stream

as tranquil rivers dream

on a salmon route, musketeers sing

♾

From the bareback of a bison

cut up and shown neatly

everso near me, slowly fading away

how I desire to fly up up up

home and never return

to that unpalatable of a place

and its memories of equitable gains

equipping costly pains, a break turned mistake

Copyright © 2024 by Kalina Bethany. All rights reserved.

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