past / gone

[This could have been called, “Old Poem, Written Age 25,” but I chose to retain its original title, even while heavily reworking the content. – Owen]   a few weeks, all it was, and yet you linger in this air – your presence was reality and more than everywhere   the past is gone, they … Continue reading "past / gone"

Somewhere In The Telling Lost

The sound, the image changed her world, And so she tried to tell it me; There was an ardor in her tale, A passionate intensity — But somewhere in the telling lost The feel of heart, the blazing sun: And through my eyes, she glimpsed the soul, And knew that I was not The one

breezes blowing

breezes blowing clothes hung on a line — it makes me think of you — colors waving banners in the wind, just like we used to do we were breezes too were you and me, a random dance in motion — we were every wind that’s every blown, and every last emotion breezes blowing, summer … Continue reading "breezes blowing"