old man oregon city. he used to live on the forest-lined banks of a busy green river.

he was bright like neon lights. his lover’s name, Marina. they were happy, in love. together they combined the blue sky and green river and made a home on the land in between.

he carried on when she drowned. set up some barriers- a tiny red sign mumbled “stop” and stood watching as vandals broke all of his windows. he didn’t seem to notice.

i saw him today, hobbling slowly but determinedly down the road with his cane, gray rain penetrating his worn coat. my eyes drifted to the vibrant hue of two evergreen trees growing side by side across the swollen river. his body passed by like a shadow momentarily juxtaposed against the trees.

the only part of him that remains alive is the only part that was ever real. his arms stretch out to his love, almost reaching.