The Fading Path Back Home

If wishes could our dreams make true,
I’d walk the fading path back home
And see the very best of you
Beside a sunset polychrome

But years come in, and like the tide
They bear away our wishes late,
To leave an emptiness inside
That is our burden and our fate

For much that was, no longer is,
And much we feared has come to be;
Until the day that just to wish
Becomes a part of history —

But that day is not here, just yet.
The waves are restless, topped with foam,
And I will not forsake, forget
The love that lights
The fading path
Back home

The days I spent in knowing her…

A retelling of a story I’ve told elsewhere, so, please excuse any repetition. – Owen

(A retelling of a story I’ve told elsewhere, so, please excuse any repetition. – Owen)

The days I spent in knowing her
Were soft and slow, but yet a blur;
That time was like a holiday
That lit the sky, then went away

But not in anger, not in doubt,
And not in bitterness or strife;
We ended carelessly, it seems,
A half-well-thought-out time of life

And we, we each moved on from that.
She went to places far afield,
And all her passions learned to yield
To circumstance and habitat

And I, I took a different path;
Of problems, answers, business, math –
I stirred the life domestic, and
Found sperm donation doesn’t make the man

And when, last Christmas, I reached out
She answered with the same sweet look
Although now many miles we’ve gone
Past bridges made of stone across a brook…

… she said she loved me then and still;
She always has, and always will,
But not to swap the life she’s led
Or change it to an “us” instead —

And with some mist upon my eyes,
I looked away from her a bit:
The years I’ve spent in knowing her,
I think I only knew
The half of it

love’s a broken word –

love’s a broken word – it doesn’t
capture what we mean to say –
so many senses used,
and past that, felt –

a practice of amphiboly,
we never really understand –
like cards we can’t turn up,
but that we’re dealt

we say we love, I know,
but tell me this –
aren’t words that broken

the dripping cone

Photo credit : © Fallenangel | – Couple And Icecream Photo

they tasted them the dripping cone,

in moments heated and alone –

and pulled back layers of new sense,

desire and concupiscence


the carnal meal when tasted young,

the sweet embrace of tongue on tongue –

the pleasure shared; the moan, the sigh,

the cone that’s licked

until it’s




Photo credit : © Fallenangel | – Couple And Icecream Photo

A Bayou Sonnet

“Love me, and tell whatever truth you know;
If those two things conflict, then you must say.”
A time to stay and fight, a time to go;
A time to hold, a time to drift away —
For now, the moments build, and tensions grow.

“The curtain falls: is it for us or day?”

The bayou watches peacefully, and still
Upon the edge of wondrous trembling night
For golden honey, or the bitter pill,
For an embrace, or for a sudden flight.
The phantom, love, who lights on whom she will
Is never seen by those as null, or trite —

She whispers soft, a sky within a sky:
“I have no words, so this must satisfy —“

Remedial Living

We will always be just what we are.

A profound thought occurred to me,
Although it’s a tautology,
And that’s that we will always be
Just what we are: humanity —

The arguments that we’re drawn in
Of sex or sect, of class or skin
Are such that we can never win
And really, what they’ve always been:

Excuses. With our eyes turned out,
We void humility and doubt
That late, could help us turn about
And start a loving plant to sprout —

Because we’re human, we can be
So many things, but we are free
To stretch our moral paucity
With faith and hope and charity