i kissed you once out here beside these trees, and in soft regret your eyes were turned inward, towards that part of your life invisible to all but, or even and, yourself but the memory is not the kiss, it is the look and the feel of your face as i touched it, brushing the … Continue reading "… full of words and tales"
[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"
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 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"