Bayshore

An autumn evening.

But a brief moment the sunset lasts
With a growing chorus of crickets then
Comes the dark

Across the bayou, lights I start to see;
And I hear from far away the sounds
Of the distant high school football game

Autumn wraps its arms around me
Sitting on the side of a hill
Looking at the shadows and lights on the water
Feeling the breeze blow my hair

And a faint smell of wood-smoke is in the air
And the scent brings strong memory
As though reliving moments in the flesh
And not merely in thought
Of bygone days spent by the bayshore
Of your golden hair catching the last rays of sunset

Occasionally, a car goes by
And I watch the headlights trailing off
Around the bend

And life, or at least my life, this life
Has unity


(Photo by me. Originally Posted 11-14-2015. – Owen)

He Fell In Love With Summer Nights

He fell in love with summer nights
The year of the exploding dawn
The ecstasy, the endless flights,
The morning’s crest when dark was gone

He put a ring around his pride
Athwart a line of endless lights
He came to know the man inside
And fell in love with summer nights

Rebecca

Rebecca always hated me
I know, because she said:
And if I passing, spoke to her
I might as well be dead

For all the interest she would show.
But I would always try:
And she might glance up from her book
Or not, as I went by.

But then, one day, she spoke to me
And asked me if I had
A copy of Persuasion
She could borrow for a tad

I said I did, and brought it on
The very next of days;
Rebecca took it with a glance
That turned into a gaze

“You like me, Owen, don’t you?”
I did not know what to say —
“Well, don’t. Because I don’t like you,”
And so I went away

But lo, the years have gone
And I now see what I mistook –
Rebecca
If you’re out there —

Can I have
My fricking book?

The Other Side of It

I was an experiment.

My ‘feeling hurt’ has made you quite defensive,
You’re angry that I fell in love with you;
I had no right, because you never loved me,
I realize all that now. But still, it’s true

That I must grieve a dream that only I had,
And grow hot in the foolishness I feel;
To know that what I came to hope and cherish
Was nothing in your eyes,
And never
Real

Scatter Your Love

Because it deserves a decent home.

Scatter your love to the winds,
Let it travel deep and wide;
Up the hils and down the dales,
Cross the highest mountainside

Let your love be pure and strong,
North or south or east or west:
Scatter your love to the winds,
Let it find its place
To rest

Morning Wakes Upon the Hill

The morning wakes upon the hill,
The moon awaits me in the glen;
I set out with a frozen will
To talk to you again.

The world is just a funeral fire,
A ceremony of remorse;
And still I’m climbing, ever higher,
Set upon this course —

I asked you for forgiveness once;
You set about it with good grace –
But you’ve been gone, and now your ghost
Moves softly through this place

Of missing leaves, and morning mist.
Mid echoes of intention,
I take the path that upward lies
Defying such convention

As would dictate a different course.
I knew you back when love was life;
And life was not enframed by death
And peace was not entombed in strife.

We can’t recapture innocence —
For once it’s gone, it’s gone for good,
And all our striving, in a sense,
Is just so much misunderstood

By others; and by (often) us.
How can it be the trees still know?
They lose their splendor; still, they stand.
And every single path will show

The wisdom of the rocks and trees,
The solemn beauty in the soil;
Where love is not some rash disease,
But more like liberty in toil –

To live, to grow: these are our days –
To strive to know as many ways
To scale the hills as we can find:
And integrate the body-mind

Into the whole ’twas meant to be.
Whether on mountainside or fen —
As morning wakes upon the hill,
And moon awaits us in
The glen

Forbidden Thing

He knew the game; the game knew him as well;
While she – she wrote the book on all of this.
The things that each had seen, they’d never tell;
The untold fantasies beyond the kiss —

This was to be another in a line
Of many nights that each of them had known.
The early parts were boilerplate, just fine;
When each stepped far into a danger zone

For love, forbidden thing, that ancient shame,
Began to work its way into those two:
You masters think you’ve learned to play the game;
But always, in the end, the game plays you