The Secret Miles
2024 Lutsen 29er, for those who know….

We started beneath skies pretending to shine,
Wheels spinning forward, all feeling fine—
But the woods had a different tale to tell,
One of mud, of water, of slipping through hell.

Thirty long miles, deep in the trees,
Water so high it soaked past our knees,
Chain grindin’, brakes cryin’, grit in our teeth,
And still more climbin’ just waitin’ beneath.

There’s a silence in suffering no crowd can hear,
No cowbell cheers echo back here,
Just you, your bike, and the voice in your head,
Asking, “Why?” while you pedal instead.

We laughed through the muck, ’cause crying felt cheap,
We pushed when the trail got too cruelly steep,
We found strange joy in the cold and the grime—
A bond born quiet, outside of time.

The finish line glistened—clean, serene—
Set on Superior Golf Course, trimmed and green,
People clapped, handed out drinks with pride,
But they didn’t know what we left back inside.

They didn’t see the falls, the spats,
The jokes we cracked soaked through like rats,
They didn’t feel the weight we hauled,
Or how the forest, for hours, stalled.

But you knew. And I knew. And that was enough—
The trail tried to break us, but we stayed tough.
And in that shared silence, beyond the cheer,
We carried a truth no one else could hear.

It’s not in the medals, not in the time—
It’s in every unspoken, mud-covered climb.
And that, my son, is the real reward:
A secret pact, forever stored.

© 2025 Shawn Oen. All rights reserved

Sammy the Schnoodle

You came with no warning, a bundle of curls,
Eyes wide with wonder, docked tail in soft swirls.
She handed you gently, then kissed me goodbye—
Duty called her, across desert sky.

I didn’t expect you, wasn’t quite sure.
A leash, a crate, *** on the floor.
But silence was heavy the moment she left,
And your little heart filled in the cleft.

We wandered the streets in the hush of the night,
Learning each other in dim porchlight.
You’d tilt your head like you understood,
Each broken thought, each mood, each “should.”

Endless walks down familiar roads,
You guarding my heart in quiet code.
Car rides like therapy, windows rolled down,
You made me smile when all felt drowned.

Then the day the bridge gave way to the sky,
Steel and screams, sirens that cry.
You sat by my side, unshaken, aware—
A grounding soul in thick, shaken air.

Through fear and rubble, through grief and the news,
You offered your silence, your nonjudging views.
No medal, no words, just your paw on my knee,
Reminding me gently, “You still have me.”

Seasons turned slow, then eighteen months gone,
She came back to find us, bonded and strong.
Not just a pet, but a part of my core,
The quiet teacher who opened the door.

Because of you, I learned how to stay,
To love without words, to show up each day.
You softened my edges, you taught me to bend,
Prepared me for fatherhood, friend to the end.

Now when I hold my child in the hush of the night,
I remember our walks, the streetlamp light.
Sammy the Schnoodle, unplanned but true—
The gift I didn’t know I needed was you.

© 2025 Shawn Oen. All rights reserved.

Eight years experience,
I’ll have you know,
Been working since seven
Kinda tired of it now.
No rest for the wicked,
so I’ve been told.
“Choose, him or me girls?”
“You evil *****”
“Leave, before I call the police”
“Get out the way”
“You can take the kids with you”
He doesn’t want us.
Please, girls
Daddy doesn’t want to do this.
I can smell the lies,
they flow like water now.
She looks at me,
make him leave,
don’t worry mama,
I will.
But then I look to my right
my sisters eyes
full of unshed tears.
No, I look away,
it’s my job.

It was in a context of words only bound when spoken into existence. Then it became law.
Then it became the Word of Gods.
It became verses to memorize.
To live by.
A thing they coined as “the Narrative.”
Nazareth on steroids.
The birthplace of Saviors judicated in full force.
Henceforth, the Family Bible was conceived;
which was later put through much arbitration to become law.

We played hide and seek in the dark
But we didn't talk about shadows
We swam together in the pool
But speak only in the shallows
You told me not to do what you do
but to learn and do better
Now I call out the truth
but they like the silent me better
Go say I'm the broken one
because I talk about my feelings
But we all grew in the poison,
I'm just the one healing

my dad didn’t walk out
he just stopped showing up
and called it love.

“i don’t think he meant to hurt you”
my mom says one night over cold takeout
her voice tired like she’s run this loop before

she has.

“you know how he is”
she says it like it’s supposed to make sense
like that kind of sentence has ever held me

i don’t want to argue with her
not her
she was there when he wasn’t
she held the pieces he never saw break
but still
she tries to excuse the man.

“he worked a lot” she adds
“things were complicated”

and i want to scream
i was a child. not a complication.

she picks at her food
like maybe she can find the right words
buried somewhere between the grains of rice

i let the silence stretch long
almost cruel
trying to read her face to my best ability.
working my eyes around her stress riddled face.

“i know you’re trying to defend him”
i say eventually
“but i don’t think he ever tried for me”

she winces
but she doesn’t deny it

that’s the closest thing to validation i’ll ever get.

he used to know how to smile
used to know how to carry me
until i got too big
or he got too small in other ways

we didn’t stop talking all at once
it was a slow erosion
like sand slipping under me.
one day i looked behind me and realized
he wasn’t holding my hand anymore.

he argued more than he listened
corrected more than he cared
and when i tried to reach out
he treated me like a stranger
accusing him of something unprovable

i learned who he really was in whispers
affairs
lies
his actions and inactions

and suddenly every cold moment made sense

he is trying now
a little.
half thought texts
casual invitations

like we’re peers who lost touch
not a father and daughter
with history caked in dust and silence

but i’m older now
the door i waited at for years
has rotted off its hinges
and i’ve turned my back to it.

i no longer sit at the threshold hoping he will return.

i don’t want what he’s offering
now that it’s easy to give.

i don’t want to sit across from him
pretending there was never an absence.

i don’t want to teach him
how to be what he was supposed to be
before i knew how to speak.

i say i don’t have a father
and when people ask..
i don’t explain

because i’m done explaining.
done hoping.
done shaping myself into someone
he might finally pick.

i paint a portrait of him anyway
it’s not beautiful
but it’s honest..

i sign only my name in the corner
he didn’t earn the right to be credited

sometimes i still dream of him
of who he could have been
of the version that showed up

and when i wake, i’m disgusted
by the small girl who still hasn’t learned
her dad changed some time ago.

even in my dreams
he’s already walking away

so i stopped calling
stopped chasing

dad is not his name.
not anymore.

and i am not his to claim.

My seat is cold and rusty,
My clothes are old and *****
But I feel them beside me
And that don’t matter anymore.

I look around me,
I stop,
I breath,
I smile.

Though it’s not a casual one,
It’s the one I’ve never felt before.
The one that truly says: I’m me;
The one that has no pain.

I taste the food,
I watch the telly,
I talk to them
And they with me.

It’s a thing I’ve never had.
A thing big and united
And happy
And real.

My heart beats faster,
My eyes tear up
Yet not of sorrow
But of something else.

Something I’ve been chasing,
Something I’ve been seeing all around,
Something I’ve been jealous of.
Something which is…

Home?

Life gives and life takes,
Those that mean the most -
Burrowed deep within us,
Dwelling close to our hearts -
Clinging to our souls.

Some unexpected,
Some unforeseen -

For it is those losses,
Those weighted losses...
That hurt the most.

Leaving us with gaping holes,
In our chests -
Body aching...

Leaving us with only memories,
Pieces of them that continue on -
Replaying on loop.
Slight nudges to help us remember -

Remember they existed.
Remember they were real.

Those losses.

Those. Weighted. Losses.