Our changing valley: From pears and lumber to wine and hemp

By Barry Vitcov

For those of us who have lived in the Rogue Valley for a while, we’ve seen many changes in what gets grown and harvested. One might have once thought of the area as pears and lumber before it became a destination for fine wines. As Peter Yeager tells us, hemp joined the list of money crops with the stroke of a legislative act. What does this all mean? Well, this week’s poet leaves that up to your assessment and imagination.

Thanks to those of you who have already submitted poems to the Poetry Corner. Your support has helped to expand the reach of poetry throughout Southern Oregon. And, from what we’ve heard, even beyond!

Recently, a local poet, suggested that we might help celebrate the 90th anniversary of the Oregon Shakespeare Festival with poetry. Of course, we are fortunate to live in a community rich in theater offerings: OSF, Rogue Theater Company, Cabaret Theater, Camelot Theater, Collaborative Theatre Project, Barnstormers Theater and other smaller theater companies, including our university and high school programs.

So, how about it? Let’s use OSF’s 90th Anniversary to celebrate the richness of live theater in Southern Oregon.

Submissions may be sent to haikubjv@gmail.com

Hemp Harvest Festival:
Our Changing Scene

by Peter Yeager

The pears that used to grow
in orchards flowing among
our rolling local acres,
enduring smudge pot nights
to bear the yellow juicy
sweet and grainy fruits
we’d send in cardboard boxes
to kith and kin back east
to share what locally grows

that in recent years have been
dug under to make way
for the trailing and well-timed
vines grape-laden and ripe
for pruning for plucking for crushing
creating new entertainments:
tasting rooms hosted by artistes
cradling bottles finely labeled,
dated and rated, decorked
with aplomb; adroit tongues flip
a vocabulary of flavors
– “… evoking notes of …” –
new connoisseurs conjure
essences Italian and French
poured with finesse, flowing
in crystal glasses swirling
clear and red, held just right to the light,
issuing bouquets before the reflective
swish and swallow

now with the stroke of a legislator’s pen
the landscape once again
transforms as greater thousands of acres
sport the latest consumer pop cash crop
lacking somehow in the old romance,
substituting for mellifluous tasting room phrases
words buzzingly suggestive, monograms of THC
and CDB and stoned synonyms encoding
awaken a lost generation of heads exploding

with rainbow paisleys and tie-dyed
uniforms of non-conformists
in bell-bottom blues, once psychodelicized,
now commercialized; once underground,
now common ground of wink wink
nudge nudge branding on billboards
green crosses and cannabis leaf shapes
next exit alongside signs to McDonalds
and Dutch Brothers, just another indulgence:
luring highway travelers to the latest
dispensaries medicinal recreational industrial
a weed which may or may not induce highs
but now legalized, certainly has become
commercially relevant, if not investable
in banks with federal ties,
or as romanticized as wine, (vineyards not gone,
just lost in the haze of our changing scene)

as new green and now browning clusters of
stocky weed-like shrubs guarded by charming
chain link fences or sentries perched on
aluminum plastic-webbed lawn chairs
under beach umbrellas, iced tea and
binocs close at hand, probably packin’, scan
the stocky shrub-like weeds nurtured now to harvest time
draw a new crop of migrants lining the morning roads,
fill the air with new scents setting off
new complaints from those with allergies
or nostalgic longings for more pleasant landscapes

and harvest: fragrances of apples, pears, peaches or grapes,
vines strung and sagging with plump
and luminescent globes longing for fingers
tenderly picking, gathering for crushing as by bare feet
that beat a path back down now-forgotten roads
to the ghosts of orchards that gave
our little corner of the world something of a name,
especially in the days they blossomed.

Peter E. Yeager lives in Jacksonville, Oregon, with his wife and two Jack Russell terriers. He has two daughters and three grandchildren. A New Jersey native, Peter holds degrees in English and law from Rutgers. Peter has worked for government, non-profits, and lawyers in New Jersey, Nebraska, Vermont, and Oregon. In 1991-92, he house-husbanded and home-schooled in Hungary. He loves choral singing. In 2022, he published “Searching for Sanctuary: The Journey Home,” Poems 1975-2022.

Poetry Submissions Welcomed!

You are invited to submit original work to the Poetry Corner. There are only two restrictions: First, poems need to show a connection to Ashland and/or Southern Oregon. Your interpretation of that connection is fairly loose! Second, poems need to be aligned to the left margin. The publishing platform used by Ashland.news has issues with the creative use of space! There are no length restrictions but try to keep your poems to no more than 30 lines. Be sure to include the title of your poem, your name as you would like it to appear, the city or town in which you reside, and, if you wish, your preferred pronouns.

To submit poems, send to Barry Vitcov at haikubjv@gmail.com.