THE ASHLAND POET

Every year during the week after Christmas my family gets together in Ashland for a few days to celebrate the holidays.  My son and his family come up from South Lake Tahoe, my daughter and her family come down from Portland and their mother comes down from Salem.   One evening this year my son, his wife and grandson Connor were kicking a soccer ball in the park near the center of the city.  I was off to the side watching when a young woman walked by me asking how I was doing?   She may have been 40, well dressed and did not look homeless.   She was carry a bag of poems and asked if I would want to buy one as she was trying to collect enough money to buy a pizza for her boyfriend and her self.  I became a little suspicious, but I asked her to read one.   The poems were written on brown paper that I think was cut from brown paper bags.   She took one of the poems from the bag and recited to me.   As she started it reminded me of my loss of Celia and brought tears to my eyes.  I don't recall all of it, but it started out--searching in solace for what we've all lost.  Not hearing those haunting sounds, not alone in our souls...  I do have the little brown papers of the poems but find it hard to read.   I told her it reminded me of the loss of my wife, she was very sympathetic and gave me a second poem.  I gave her $20 in hopes she would buy the pizza and hopefully not drugs as she walked off.    In some ways she made my day and I hope I contributed to hers'.