Lou J. Klaiber

THE FAR AWAY…

We took them

with us

into the places of fire

… and yet
we remember them

Boys

afraid

now silent
and deep

dead

in the far forest
of forever

The place where poets die.

We write their lives
and die again
and again

and hold them.

Welcome Home Woody!

listen
to the lost guitars

… and hoist your dream
to the remnant dreams
of a sad sky.

We put our sad hands together

over there.

I loved them

and they are the rainbow
that I dream.

All of them!

My Soldiers
My Hopes
My America

… and so it goes.

Author’s Note: For Thurman “Woody” Woodfork