Above Kalama A truck driver swerved Slightly into my lane Then corrected himself When I honked And swerved away. In his side view mirror I saw him staring at me Grizzled and angry And I thought of the ways In which we encroach Upon our surrounding world Stepping upon shadows When we stray from our meridians. I wonder At what point Did I look upon the world Grizzled and nasty Or at what occasion Did I see shadows As darkness? In the cloister I build In fear-mud like a swallow Seeing narrowly outwards Is it any wonder I see one truck swerve And hate his face And miss The grace of the sycamore Swaying gently Into the freeway.
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Dejah Patterson has always loved writing, and has studied poetry, fiction, and third-person biography writing at the UO in Eugene, OR. She has won several awards for her writing, as well as five dollars from a lottery ticket, and hopes to pursue writing, traveling, and teaching as a career. Dejah is also a songwriter, a musician, and an artist, so if the whole writing thing falls through she’s got those other things going for her, which is nice. She hopes to make it big as a writer someday, so that she can get a roadie to write her bios for her.