Portand, Spring 2023



Portland, Spring 2021



Spring comes anyway.


Yellow leads the way, the dainty daffodils

bobbing their little trumpets in the breeze,

a Mardi Gras parade.


Spring is active, a newly toned muscle

Full of colorful determination and melodious strength.


Green startles the eye as the gray world begin to come alive.

On the streets,

Tender pink blossoms mix like confetti with

Cigarette butts, syringes and

Soiled paper masks.


Spring pushes up through cracks in the sidewalk,

Crowds graffiti and torn tents.

The rain falls balmy at times,

And feels like possibility.


Spring in Oregon is fragrant and frothy,

sensual abundance.

Rainbows beckon,

Saturating the sky

From behind steel bridges.


An embarrassment of riches, really.


Spring looks forward,

Never back.

And we emerge too,

looking at each other again,

shyly, unmasked

After the longest winter of our lives.


Spring cares not about

Car jackings, shootings, and pandemics.

Stocks plunging, war raging.


Spring comes anyway

On terms and time

all her own.


We can throw at her everything

In our ugly arsenal.

And in spite

or maybe because of these things,

Spring comes.


Amy Claire Massingale


Amy Claire Massingale is a Pacific Northwest-based poet with deep Southern roots, writing on love, loss and family. Her work has appeared in The New York Times Tiny Love Stories, and was the featured story for the print edition; and other literary journals including Cathexis, Moonstone Arts, and several others. Amy was the recipient of the first place prize for her COVID story entitled "Essential" in the Humans of the World 2022 contest. It has only taken 40 years, but in poetry, Amy has finally found her voice. She lives in Portland with her family who inspire her daily with their love and support.



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