The Upper Pacific
The land of sun is far-gone and south,
California a haze-dream of oranges
and tan light-mashed oak trees.
Here, in Oregon,
the pines drip a feather-mist,
the air swirls and sinks through,
the clouds hold cloaks in the rivers,
jackets are pulled firmly over;
eyes are down.
the speech is knife-quick.
On any given day, there is about equal chance of finding Nate Senge stooped over his laptop, lodged in a music studio, or clicking into his skis on top of a fourteen-thousand foot mountain. Raised in New England and a graduate of Dartmouth, he now resides in Colorado.