Ian Keenan

The Path - Poem by Ian Keenan

Mixed with leaves and woody detritus
The path leads, as ever,
Through the memories and yells of

The Scout Hut, greenly bedraggled,
The remnants of last week’s
And in their kits my boys,
Ghosts earning still their

Passing the bark and dead buds
I see them past,
Building dens of twigs and twisted
Laughing and running
Into my mind’s distance.

Approaching home I know I shouldn’t,
But how to stop my heart,
The pain always in the delight,
The price of age and fatherhood.

Topic(s) of this poem: poem

Comments about The Path by Ian Keenan

  • (10/16/2016 9:39:00 AM)

    This is another excellent poem about the joys and sorrows of fatherhood. (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
Read all 1 comments »

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

Poem Submitted: Monday, December 7, 2015

[Report Error]