Lou J. Klaiber

THE NIGHTS

Most of war is forgotten,

in
… flashes of light,
radio garble
and gunfire,

… lost to the night.

Young faces that never asked questions.

None of them forgotten.

Long ago is always a place
beside the pen that writes
the rest of our days.

War was somewhere
and always
here.

My words are small soldiers
forever…
armed with the weapons
of memory

and the long

… long

march toward home.

All I ever wanted
was for them

… to be welcomed home.