Author Bios

Chris Anderson is a professor emeritus of English at Oregon State University and a Catholic deacon. He has published a n…   For subscribers (Subscribe here!)   Or log in below:   Username or E-mail Password Remember Me     Forgot Password

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Summer Steelhead

is like a secret lover acrobatic enough to give old man heart attack, deliciously fresh out of sea with basil on ba…   For subscribers (Subscribe here!)   Or log in below:  

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Trailside Hush

I am still here: caught in the quiet of the land. You can find me as easily as the creek finds its way downhill tr…   For subscribers (Subscribe here!)   Or log in below:  

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Paisley Cave

Sitting in the mouth of the shelter, looking out at the sagebrush plain, the shallow lake, the far mountain wall, y…   For subscribers (Subscribe here!)   Or log in below:  

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Geese

Once we were having mass in a yurt on a hill above the sea. This was after a storm, and through the wavy plastic win…   For subscribers (Subscribe here!)   Or log in below:  

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Charger

Sometimes I speed down the coastal highway like there’s an end to this rainbow we’ve been chasing. When I came back …   For subscribers (Subscribe here!)   Or log in below:  

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Watching for Spring

Oh faux February spring, don’t end. Thank you for trying. Thank you for daphne’s unfolding perfume, daffodils’ yello…   For subscribers (Subscribe here!)   Or log in below:  

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Willamette Winter

I remember the pattern of it. The greater seasons. The warmth of a stove, radiating against the chill of pervasive m…   For subscribers (Subscribe here!)   Or log in below:  

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Released

I arrive to the Columbia River a runaway– it wasn’t my first time My sister will tell you She takes me in her confi…   For subscribers (Subscribe here!)   Or log in below:  

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It is so

Southeast of La Pine distances become real. Miles caged too long in forests on curvy mountain roads step out of the …   For subscribers (Subscribe here!)   Or log in below:  

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The Airlie Branch

Where do unused train tracks go? Sleeping between encroaching bushes Buried beneath blackberries. Parallel lines set …   For subscribers (Subscribe here!)   Or log in below:  

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Air Raid

One December evening in 1977, I had tickets to hear David Grisman’s stellar bluegrass quintet in San Francisco, but th…   For subscribers (Subscribe here!)   Or log in below:  

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Scorched Earth

August into September, there was leaving California, there were wildfires that torched the West Coast indiscriminately, …   For subscribers (Subscribe here!)   Or log in below:  

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muscle tree

the madrone near the top of the ridge – slightly bent, spirals to the forest canopy gathering her share of sun and win…   For subscribers (Subscribe here!)   Or log in below:  

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It’s Spring

and we are blinded by dogwood-petal snow, by whipped clouds and dogged rain, luscious b…   For subscribers (Subscribe here!)   Or log in below:  

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Greeting

Dear Fireweed Community, We have appreciated your patience and support as we completed this very late, but very an…   For subscribers (Subscribe here!)   Or log in below:  

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What’s Inside

Greeting It’s Spring —Suzy Harris Certificate of Birth Abroad —Eilín de Paor poem.     grandmother book. —Linda Rave…   For subscribers (Subscribe here!)   Or log in below:  

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