a river in broceliande

persistence and fade

this is how i wait

moving in october

Last waking in the old house, the boy watches
from an upstairs window, nodding
at the sky‘s surrender to dust from the harvest.

The restless world searches for an ending.
Congregations of blackbirds over stubble,
like mothers and fathers gleaning children

from the broken ground. Wind maims
the soft yellow trees, tearing the frail edges
of leaves, trying to sew the name of God.

He whispers his own name as if pulling a thread.
His breath fogs pale and cool on the glass,
warm on the back of his hand. It is day.

birch grove, october dusk

this doorway

James Owens 1904 - 1988

Jack Owens 1936 - 2003

James Owens 1963 -

Benjamin Owens 2000 -

------------------------

And I know a father

Who had a son

He longed to tell him all the reasons

For the things he'd done

He came a long way

Just to explain

He kissed his boy as he lay sleeping

Then he turned around and headed home again

Paul Simon

Slip-Sliding Away

lift