Poem: Portola Valley Blues Poem: Portola Valley Blues (September 22, 2004) (The lament of a resident of 44 years.)

Anything but rural
Is all that I can say
As I look around my neighborhood
Every single day -

Streets are lined with trucks and cars,
Construction sites galore,
Mansions reaching toward the sky;
I'd say rural is no more.
Once horses trod the woodland trails
That toss up dust no more.

We once were academic types
Now mostly corporate cash
What happened to that small-town feel?
I'd say it's turned to ash.

Although small-town and rural
No longer do apply
The town still has some virtues
I've known more than forty years.
Despite the noisy neighborhood
Not music to my ears
I know it's very likely I'll live here 'til I die.

--Norma Lundholm Djerassi, with apologies to, as well as inspiration from, Calvin Trillin in his weekly political rhymes to The Nation magazine.

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