Highways and Byways: Remembering the Willamette

By Maik Strosahl

I enjoyed Eric Meub’s poem “Willamette Valley” on December 12th, but I kept thinking about the drawing by Susan C. Price. It seemed to capture a sadness, a looking back with longing. This last summer I got sent with a special load out of my normal area and into Oregon. I remember the mountains most – they were different from the ones I had gone through in Colorado and Utah. Beautiful country. In my poem I tried to capture some of what I saw in Susan’s picture, drawing also from the biblical story of the Garden of Eden.


I remember the valley.
I remember the heavens on earth,
land flowing milk and honey,
wine and meads—
blackberries to die for.

They say the secret
is in the alluvial deposits,
carried down from the mountains,
washing over the land.

I remember the Willamette.
I remember the hope we felt
looking down the first time
upon paradise,

then how we were
cast from the garden,
our sins buried deep
in the rich soil,
secrets deeper,

as we went back
to thorns and thistles,
digging into sand
under the scorch of Satan,
blue skies with no hint of rain.

Copyright © 2021 by Maik Strosahl Michael E. Strosahl has focused on poetry for over twenty years, during which time he served a term as President of the Poetry Society of Indiana. He also dabbles in short fiction and may be onto some ideas for a novel. He relocated to Jefferson City, Missouri, in 2018 and currently co-hosts a writers group there. In September 2020, he started the blog “Disturbing the Pond.”