POETRY FORUM

Sand Dollar

by Christopher Raley on July 7, 2016 :: 0 comments

I have no power in my name,
no confidence of position,
no money in my house,
no clothes of personal cut.
My love should be poor,
but my love is not.

We were made
in a world without intrusion.
We heard no radio,
listened to no voices,
felt no other’s feelings.
We walked on a strand of white
between a grey, foaming deep
and a forest quietly singing.

We found a dollar and called ourselves rich.
We were warm and it was raining.

editors note:

The uncountable currency of companionship. – mh clay

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I was born in Chico, CA in 1974 and lived there until 1994. I was 19 and had two years at a community college behind me when I decided I didn’t want to go to school anymore. I moved to Salem, Oregon and lived with my brother and his wife while working as a carpet cleaner for ServiceMaster. After about a year I decided to return to school and attended Western Oregon University in Monmouth where I received a BA in English with an emphasis on writing.

By this time I was married, and in June of 1999, with a pregnant wife, I moved back to Chico. It was supposed to be temporary. I worked for my father’s disaster restoration business which was also supposed to temporary. I picked up what local freelance work I could get, but being a career writer was not in the cards so to speak. Ten years later my father sold the business and I was still working for it. I continued for the new owner for another two years before quitting because of overwhelming stress from all angles related to the industry. In November of 2011 I began working as Director of Operations for Grace Brethren Church and remain there in that capacity.

My first significant exposure to poetry was Bob Dylan. I remember listening to “The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carol” as a young boy with my father late at night, trying to keep the volume in that tenuous place between just loud enough to hear well and not loud enough to wake mom. It was like nothing anyone else sang and it tuned my ear to hear language rather than affectation. But it wasn’t until that year long break between colleges that I actually started reading poetry. I began with T.S. Eliot (I have no idea why). This may have been good, or it may have been bad. His poetry gave me a lot of things I had to get over and I hardly ever return to his poems, but ultimately it started me down the path of writing poetry.

I started my blog, tappingthewall.com, in July of 2010. Prior to that I had a couple poems published on Cyber Oasis and in Western Oregon University’s literary journal Northwest Passage. I currently live in Chico with my wife and two sons.