On this Memorial Day, as always, wishing the best for all our classmates who have and continue to serve our country. Thank you for your service!
Interactive news, reviews, gossip, musings, activities, photos, mysteries, histories, stories, truths, lies & video tapes from & for graduates of the Kirkwood (MO) High School fabulous class of 1965. Email us anything you would like to share to leslieatkhs65dotcom. See photos at www.khs65.com - comment here or on the website to make yourself heard! FIND US ~ www.khs65.com ~ www.khs65.org ~ FACEBOOK KHS65 ~ http://khs65blog.com ~ KHS65 MAKE IT A HABIT!
Wednesday, May 23, 2018
A NOD TO VIET NAM, A KHS CLASSMATE AND MEMORIAL DAY
From our good KHS65 friend Alan Yount, poet, horn player and bandmaster extraodinaire, comes a new poem which will be honored in an online publication for Memorial Day. Kudos to Alan for continually succeeding in having his work published! I have more of his work to post, just recently able to find time for some of my long-neglected fun activities. You can visit the journal at: http://militaryexperience.org/as-you-were-vol-1/ and on the 28th you should see Alan's poem leading off the poetry section. Note the nod to Craig Schmitz, another Kirkwood boy killed in Viet Nam.
On this Memorial Day, as always, wishing the best for all our classmates who have and continue to serve our country. Thank you for your service!
If you wish to contact Alan, please let me know, I hesitate to publish his contact info online due to horrible increase in spam and annoying phone calls to which we are all subjected these days.
On this Memorial Day, as always, wishing the best for all our classmates who have and continue to serve our country. Thank you for your service!
WHY DOES THE
NIGHT LAST SO LONG
the same dreams
sometimes happen
over and over …
in high school
kissing a girl for the first time:
the porch lights suddenly go on.
at college,
after studying all night:
falling asleep
I miss the final.
late for an
interview:
finally get
there
I find out it’s the wrong room.
my young
daughter, who I still smell
her fragrance,
from hugging me:
slips away, and
some nights,
floating
up and out of
bed
smothered in
covers …
and I can’t cry out.
down here with
craig schmitz
(my high school
dance band drummer)
who was killed
in vietnam:
we are forever clawing up a muddy hill
somewhere north of da nang.
it’s three a.m.
you think you’re
awake?
or asleep?
a voice tells
you:
there’s nothing
you can ever go back to again
and change in your life
even in your dreams.
why does the
night
last so long.
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